Obsession: Steal My Life
by BregoBeauty
Summary: All it took was a betrayal for one man's crumbling world to fall apart...now, he'll become someone ten times more dangerous and obsessed. Part Five of 'Obsession' series
1. Prologue

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Summary:** (Part Five of the 'Obsession' Series) George King had been bright and successful—his entire life was ahead of him. Then a betrayal shook his fragile world and he gradually lost his sanity. Eventually he would become Jackson Rippner, a master assassination manager, and the obsession would begin—an obsession that would become Lisa Reisert's worst nightmare. (Prequel to _Do My Part_)

**Prologue**

George King had graduated high school a year early and at the top of his class. He had scored in the top percentile of all of his exams and was decidedly charming. Women were very interested in him—he had looks, brains, and money—yet he was only concerned with his own success.

He worked with computers and ended up employed by a private company and received nice fat paychecks while he worked on earning a college degree.

He had never needed anyone to care from him in his life. George was self-sufficient, after having spent most of his life living with uncaring relatives following the demise of his parents. His parents had not been real winners either. They had been drunk and arguing in their car until it had run off the road, wrapped around a tree, and exploded in a ball of flame.

Of course, everything in his life had changed when he married Sofia Warren. In the blink of an eye, George King was a caring man and less of a workaholic than he had been in his entire life. At the same time, his mental problems were weighing heavily upon his mind and the need for normalcy pressured him into new situations.

Then, the sharp sting of a betrayal had sent him spiraling down the dark path he had been trying to ignore since his birth.

George King was about to disappear and Jackson Rippner was to rise from the ashes.

**Author's Notes:**

Everyone's favorite dark/evil Jackson is back! Enjoy! The first chapter should be up soon. You will not have to have read the other stories to understand this one. It's going to chronicle his decline into insanity and eventual rise as Jackson Rippner. Thanks for reading/reviewing!


	2. Chapter One

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter One**

George King stopped breathing for a brief moment when Sofia Warren first walked into the office where he worked. He had been bent over the computer in front of him, fingers clacking away furiously on the keyboard as he typed up memo after memo, initially ignoring the ringing of the bell at the entrance, but when he heard her clear her throat in order to grab his attention, his blue eyes darted up.

That's when he stopped breathing.

It took him a few seconds to gather himself and put on his usual professional demeanor.

"Hello," he said nervously.

"Hi," she replied with a kind smile.

"Can I help you?"

"I sure hope so, Mr…"

"King, George King," he offered. He was trying to remain composed.

"Okay, Mr. King. I'm having some trouble with my computer."

"What kind of trouble?" His professional curiosity was aroused and he tried to remain focused on business, not the image of the young woman standing in front of him.

"I'm not really sure. But it won't even start up anymore. Do you think you could take a look at it?" She batted her eyelashes; flashing wide brown eyes at him.

"Do you have it with you?"

"No, it's still at my house. I don't know how to unhook it."

"It's fairly simple—" George started, but she cut him off.

"My ex hooked it up and I haven't a clue how to do anything with it. All I want is to be able to turn it on and check my e-mail. Now I can't even manage that…"

George could see her eyes getting ready to fall in despair. He shifted restlessly in his chair, trying to remain seated and comfortable, but this woman was too much for him. He stood up and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.

"Now, where is it that you live?" he asked, leading the upset young woman outside. "I'll come and take a look."

* * *

Her computer was easily fixed—all George had to do was restore the internet connection. It had apparently been overrun with viruses and spyware from the differing websites she had visited which caused the system to crash. It was a common problem and he promised to show her how to avoid it in the future and agreed to put on anti-virus software.

While the computer was updating, they chatted and he learned her name. She was Sofia Warren, 20 years old, and had lived in Miami her entire life. Her curly brown hair was natural, even though she made trips to a salon twice a week. She had long red fingernails that reminded George of bloody daggers. Sofia was maybe 5 foot, 6 inches, standing tall in her stiletto heels.

George fell victim to her charms and ended up asking her out to dinner, which she accepted. Her eyes had lit up when he named an expensive restaurant nearby and set an eight o'clock date for the following evening.

The computer finished rebooting and George installed an anti-virus and adware scanner. When he was finished, Sofia gave him a hug followed by a thank-you kiss for fixing her computer. She insisted upon paying him for his effort, even though he insisted that it was not necessary. He eventually gave in and they confirmed their date for the following evening.

George King headed home feeling happier than he had been in a long time.

* * *

_Since when do pretty women hire lowly computer techs to fix their computers? And then end up agreeing to do go on a date with aforementioned computer tech? Score one for geeks everywhere…_

He had never really been on a "date" before. Sure, he had attended all the social functions in high school with a girl on his arm, but it did not qualify as a date. He had never been interested of any of the loose girls with their crispy hair damaged from styling products that had chosen to throw themselves at him. He had politely told them to leave him alone and to stop throwing up their meals in the toilet.

But Sofia was different. She was a mature woman and she had seemed as attracted to him as he was to her. She was also the first person that he had ever had feelings for.

When he got home, George spent almost an hour making lists of stuff to do in preparation in his neat handwriting and setting out a suit. He chose a light blue shirt that matched his icy eyes pairing it with a navy blue suit.

The next day after work, he stopped by a local salon and lost his shaggy look. His hair appeared to be even darker when it was cropped close—almost black instead of his usual brown. It felt strangely light to be without so much of his hair. To continue his grooming, he shaved all of his stubble off. He dressed and polished his black shoes before leaving to purchase a bouquet of flowers.

He was ringing Sofia's doorbell at exactly eight o' clock with the flowers in hand, wearing cologne for the first time in a long while.

She answered it and squealed with delight at the sight of the flowers.

"Wow, you sure do clean up nice," she said with amazement as she took in the sight of his short hair, shaved face, and clean-cut suit.

"Thanks. You look gorgeous," George said, admiring her bright red dress that matched her fingernails and lipstick. The v-neck of the dress plunged dangerously low and the hem was riding rather high on her thighs, even with the uneven cut at the bottom.

She twirled in a circle for him and then went to put the flowers in a vase of water. When she was finished, she returned to the door, purse in hand.

"Shall we?" George suggested and offered his arm.

Sofia squealed with delight once more and accepted. "Such a gentleman!"

He blushed slightly and then led her out to his car and helped her climb in. They were on their way to dinner, unaware of his first date being his initial steps into the beginning of a self-destructive path.

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks to emptyvoices for helping me out with the editing of this chapter! Enjoy and thanks for reading/reviewing!


	3. Chapter Two

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Two**

_I have him right where I want him…_

Sofia Warren smiled across the dimly lit table at George. He fidgeted in his seat, still nervous at being somewhat alone with her. He had requested a private table in the upscale restaurant, well known for its atmosphere and romantic qualities. There was a pair of tapered candles flickering between them as they sipped the expensive wine that he had ordered.

_What a sucker… Had I known this was so easy, I would have done it much sooner…_

"Having fun?" George asked politely.

"Yes, I actually am. For the first time in _months_ really…"

"Why's that?"

"My ex was cheating on me. He also used to…to hit me." Sofia cast her eyes down, trying to appear saddened by the memories.

"Oh, Sofia, I had no idea," George said softly, sounding genuinely concerned about her. He even leaned across the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"It's over now and it was for the best," she sniffled. "Now, I've got you."

"Yes, you do."

_Stupid, stupid boy…_

* * *

It was a whirl-wind romance. Within a few short dates, Sofia had invited George to move in with her. She had claimed that she did not feel safe living alone in her apartment. He agreed and soon enough he was ready for the next step.

Three months after their first date, George got down on one knee at dinner and proposed.

"Sofia, would you do me the honor of marrying me?" he said, presenting her with a rather large diamond ring.

"Oh my…George…" She looked unsteady even sitting in her chair. He had clearly surprised her.

"I know that it's sudden—"

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes!" she squealed, bending down to hug him.

George stood up with her and carefully slipped the ring onto her left hand ring finger. Sofia held it up in the light to admire it.

"Wow, I'm shocked," Sofia said, trembling from the excitement.

"I'm glad that you're happy. That's all that matters to me."

"Oh, George, that's so sweet of you! How did you ever manage to afford this?"

"My parents left me some money, as did my aunt and a few other family members."

Sofia raised a dark eyebrow; intrigued. "How many family members?"

"All of them. They're all dead."

"You mean; you don't have any family at all? Oh, George, honey…"

"It's okay, Sofia, my love. I don't need them. They all hated me anyways," he said, blue eyes flashing angrily for a split second as he remembered their revulsion towards him. He could honestly say that he did not miss them.

"Still, don't you have anyone?"

"Now, I've got you," he said with a smirk as he pulled her closer and gave her a deep kiss.

* * *

Sofia was in the midst of planning an elaborate wedding. The ceremony was to be held outside, on a pristine Miami beach. The reception to follow was to be held at the Lux Atlantic—a recently acquired high-rise luxury hotel. The honeymoon suite on the top floor had already been booked for their wedding night. For after the wedding, Sofia was scheduling a tropical cruise.

George just sat back, handled finances, and worked his ass off. He did not want to have to deny Sofia anything. He wanted to be able to spoil her and take excellent care of her. Money was not to be an issue for them like it was for so many other couples.

"Honey?" Sofia called from the living room.

"Yeah?" he responded, looking up from the computer screen that he was staring at. He had recently started up a side business creating and maintaining web pages for companies and small businesses in the Miami area.

"Can you come take a look at this?"

"Sure, sweetheart." George tapped the control key and the S key on the keyboard to save his work. Then he got up from his sub-standard desk chair and padded into the living room, the tile and wood floors cold against his bare feet.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked once he bent over the couch behind her, his head nestled on top of hers as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo.

_Sweet-smelling as always…my precious Sofia…_

"I don't know which color to pick. What do you like better? The red or the gold?" Sofia held up two bold swatches of fabric right under George's nose.

"For what?"

"The bridesmaid's dresses and your vest. And the tablecloths…"

"Hmm, how about the red? It's a beautiful shade and I know that it's your favorite color," he whispered in her ear and then playfully kissed it, his lips trailing from her left ear to her mouth as she turned her head.

"Perfect."

Sofia slipped around on the sofa and came face-to-face with George. He placed his hands around her slender throat to hold her head up and in place as he kissed her, softly at first then with more insistency. He then came around the sofa and she slipped her body across the cushions as he climbed on top of her.

The kisses continued, along with Sofia's loud, pleasure-filled moans.

_Don't you see what you do to me? What I long to do to you?_

That's when the phone rang and George King rolled off his fiancé, hit the floor, and reached for the shrill object.

"Hello?" he said, despite Sofia's whiny protests in the background.

"We have a situation, George," said his manager.

"I'll be right back," he whispered to Sofia, covering the mouthpiece of the phone as he hurried back down the short hall to his office. This time he closed the door.

"What kind of situation?" he asked suspiciously once he ensured he had his privacy.

"Pack your bags, kid—you're going out west. Military base. We need someone with your brains and computer skills."

"For how long?"

"Less than a week. You'll be rewarded handsomely for it."

"I'll do it."

"Flight info is coming via fax now. You know the drill."

"Got it."

George King clicked the off button and ended the call. Sofia and wedding plans would have to wait. His real work was about to begin.

**Author's Notes:**

Well, now that is up and running with the alerts again, I'll try and respond to everyone's review! Major thanks to emptyvoices for her help with this chapter. Enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading/reviewing!


	4. Chapter Three

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Three**

George checked into the cheap motel with his meager belongings and computer equipment. The downside of his job was all the travel involved. Luckily most of his trips, like this one, were only for a few days and he was usually paid double his salary for his services.

In the tiny room, he set up his laptop and picked up his untraceable pre-paid cell phone—a must for each business trip. He dialed the number of his manager's pre-paid cell phone. _The beauty of simple technology…_

"Hello?"

"GK, 11 9 14 7 checking in."

"Confirmed. Ready for business?"

"Affirmative," George agreed, nodding his head as he spoke.

"Tonight—meet at a black van in the parking lot at 11pm. Bring equipment. Recon trip."

"11pm?" he repeated.

"Correct. Confirmation?"

"Confirmed, 11 9 14 7."

The call ended and George sighed. Then he went to the motel room phone and placed a long distance call to Miami.

"Hello?" came Sofia's voice over the telephone.

"Hey, it's me, sweetheart."

"George! How was your flight?"

"Long. But I'm feeling better now that I heard your voice." He could imagine her lounging around their home, wedding plans spread in front of her, wearing one of those flimsy nightgowns that she loved, smelling of her sweet and expensive perfume…

"Oh George… when are you coming home?"

"In a few days tops. Just keep working on the wedding plans. I'll see you soon," he finished quickly, hanging up before either of them could say good-bye.

Suddenly, he was really starting to hate his job…

* * *

He was ready when the van pulled up. He knocked loudly on the back door, called out an admission code, and was let in by a man dressed solely in black. Once the door banged shut behind him, the van shifted into gear and drove away.

"Geek, set up," a gruff voice ordered from the front. George took "geek" to mean him and started to unzip his laptop bag and set up his surveillance equipment on the built-in work station.

This was definitely a van created for the purpose of being used in covert assignments. Dark tinted windows blocked out all forms of light—even in the windscreen. There were multiple seats haphazardly spread around for approximately six people, which just happened to be the average numbers of people need to pull off a successful job, plus banks of monitors and a workstation for the resident "geek".

"Hack into the secured network of the military base."

_This is what I get paid the big bucks for? Dealing with jerks and listening to barked commands? Damn, I need to get a new job…_

His experienced hands flew over the keys, typing indiscernible bits of code. Blue eyes remained riveted on the screen as he became absorbed in his work. He never missed a key as he became obsessed with the code. Part of the reason he was so good at his job was his obsession with perfection and his lack of connection with people and places. He had already forgotten where he was, why he was there, and anything not connected to the job at hand.

"Got it," he said triumphantly as the van slowed to a stop near a high security fence.

A headset was thrown to George and he put it on.

"Run through," the leader said dryly.

George nodded, once again focused on the computer screen before him.

"Cut power to fence."

He tapped out a series of commands and the electricity died on the tall fence which became easily climbable with the deadly power cut off.

"Power out," George said.

"Any guards?"

His skilled fingers flew, eyes locked on the screen. A few heat signatures flared up, but they were several yards away. According to the security cameras that he was now controlling, they were patrolling the main compound only.

"Rent-a-cops, three of 'em, at main. Covering main entrance only. Carrying rifles without scopes or lasers. Estimated distance—700 yards," he reported coolly.

"Side building?"

"Out of cop sight, still on camera."

"Cut the feed."

George tapped the keys and the security cameras went dead on the side building. He smirked.

"Feed out."

"Unlock door."

More tapping. No one in the van breathed for a brief moment.

"Door open. Code 1, 2, 3, 4."

Cheers erupted from the crew.

"Okay geek, stay on line. We're moving out."

The four men in black, high-powered rifles in hand, filed out of the van and into the night. George monitored their progress on the computer screen as they climbed the fence and dropped inside the compound.

_This is only supposed to be a recon. They aren't supposed to leave the damn van. What the fuck is he thinking?_

The four men were hurrying towards the building, typing in the altered code on the door.

_They've screwed the job. They've screwed it._

_I'm gonna die. I'm a dead fucking man walking…_

He scouted ahead, disabling cameras and security sensors as he went.

"We're in. Get us to the basement," ordered the leader over the headset.

George rattled off directions as he cleared the path. That's when things started to go wrong.

His computer locked up and the system he had hacked into was spinning out of his control. He was locked out.

_Fuck… now I'm really screwed._

"Abort! Abort mission! System is not under control!" George called urgently in the headset as a mild form of panic began to settle in and forced him to become anxious.

"Shut up, geek."

"Abort—!" he called one last time before the frequency died and they cut his headset.

"Fuck!" he cursed loudly, ripping the headset off and chucking it across the van. He shoved his hands into his short-cropped hair, eyes wide in fear. He had lost control.

_It's out of my control…it can't be. I'm always in control!_

His computer beeped. It was no longer frozen. He returned to the screen, fingers poised on the keyboard, and attacked the system once more. The bastards might have cut off communication between them, but he could still find them, get their asses out in one piece, and finish the job. He could still come out on top.

And he would succeed.

**Author's Notes:**

How's that for an intro to George's original job? I having flashbacks to the movie _Three Days of the Condor_ (an older Robert Redford flick) and all the discussions that my dad and I had. It's great having a member of the family who knows all about espionage work (even though finding out specific info is like pulling teeth). Anyways, enjoy and major thanks to emptyvoices for helping me out and also to everyone who read/reviewed!


	5. Chapter Four

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Four**

"George!" squealed Sofia, running up to him in the middle of the airport after he exited the gate. She threw her arms around him and he scooped her up while she wrapped her long, tan legs around his waist. Their mouths locked in a rough kiss and Sofia ran her hands into his hair, tugging onto the short strands while his lips fell to her throat.

"God, I've missed you, sweetheart," he murmured, breathing in the flowery, expensive scents that lingered on her body.

"Me too. Don't you dare leave me alone again."

"Not for a while. Not for a good _long_ while…"

"Otherwise, I'll have to seriously consider divorcing you and marrying someone who will give me all the attention that I deserve."

He groaned, shaking his head and Sofia laughed.

* * *

The following morning, George carefully knocked on the door to his manager's office. He had received an e-mail requesting his presence at 9am. Being responsible, he was there right on time, dressed in a fresh suit with a button-down shirt with the collar of his undershirt visible. He never wore ties and always left the top two buttons undone.

"Who is it?" called the manager, his voice coming over an intercom.

"King, George King."

"Come in, Mr. King."

George opened the heavy wooden door and closed it slowly behind him. He then walked up to the large mahogany desk where his manager sat, expensive leather shoes propped up on the desk, and thick fingers meeting in a steeple as he reclined in the leather chair.

"Sit down," he ordered, gesturing to a chair.

George did as he was told and waited for his manager to speak. Craig Smith was the leading supervisor in the company that he was employed with and it was an honor to work for him. Smith had started with the same low-level computer tech work that George did, and rose quickly through the ranks and now rested comfortably at the top calling all the shots. _One of these days, I'll be better than he ever was. I'll become a legend._

"Mr. King, it has come to my attention that you went against orders from your project manager and by doing so, endangered the job."

"No, sir, I did not. I followed orders as given. They left the van on a recon and the system that I was hired to control locked me out. I told them to abort when I lost the system for safety. They cut me off. Instead of leaving them high and dry, I took it upon myself to re-enter the system and unblock their path," he responded with a hint of smugness. _After all, I really should have just left them rather than compromise myself._

"So you saved the mission? Or are you just lying to cover your own ass?"

"No, sir, I never lie," George stated icily, crystalline eyes fierce at the accusation. _How dare you insinuate such a thing? I do have standards, even though I'm in this business._

"Good, good. Dismissed."

"Thank you, sir."

* * *

George staggered into the apartment four hours later than usual at 11pm. Sofia came down the hall, her feet barely making a sound as she made her way across the floor.

"George, honey, is that you?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm home," he sighed, setting down his laptop bag, tossing the keys and his wallet onto the table beside the front door.

"What took you so long?"

"Busy night," he said, turning away from her to head for the bathroom.

"George, you're bleeding. Why are you bleeding?"

He looked into the mirror and glared at the cuts on his face. "It's just a scratch."

"Were you in an accident?"

"Sofia, I'm fine," he said calmly, turning around to face her and taking her chin with his hand. "Look at me. I'm fine."

"I was just so worried. You didn't call, you're late, you're hurt—damn it, George, what am I supposed to do! What am I supposed to think!"

She wrenched herself away from his grasp. He reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Let go of me, George," she said, her voice was a low growl, a warning to him.

He ignored it, his expression as blank as a sheet of paper. George yanked her closer and shoved her back into the bathroom wall.

"George, stop it. You're scaring me."

"Oh really?" He leaned in closer and pressed his weight into her as his left hand grabbed her wrists tightly and his right hand caressed her slender throat. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Please, stop. Let's just get you cleaned up—"

"No."

"George—"

"No, Sofia. I said no!" He dropped her throat and delivered a stinging slap to her face. Then, he stumbled backwards and left the bathroom.

Sofia sank down to the cool tile floor, clutching her cheek. "George," she whimpered softly, her disbelief clear.

That's when she realized that he smelled funny—a stench clung to him like cheap beer. George King was drunk, bitter, and he had assaulted her. But he would never hurt her when he was sober. He still loved her. She had kept pushing him and he had snapped.

It was an accident.

**Author's Notes:**

Georgie boy's job is starting to stress him out already. Just wait until he finds out what Sofia does while he's working his ass off all day. Major thanks to emptyvoices for her help and to everyone else for reading/reviewing!


	6. Chapter Five

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Five**

George King wandered into the Lux Atlantic by himself the next day. The hotel was spacious with a modern influence. It appeared to be exactly what Sofia had requested. She was currently preoccupied with ordering her wedding gown and the bridesmaid's dresses; otherwise, she would have been there in his stead. Since she had made the appointment, he was obligated to show-up since there was no time to reschedule, and she was stuck at a bridal shop an hour away with her girlfriends.

He headed over to the desk and removed the dark sunglasses that shielded his blinding blue eyes, flashing a smile at the desk clerk.

"May I help you?" the clerk asked politely, a thin bottle-blonde woman with extremely white teeth and red lipstick.

"Yes. My name is George King. My fiancée, Sofia Warren, has an appointment with your events and activities coordinator, Lisa Reisert? I'm here in her place."

"Okay, I'll get Miss Reisert," she said with a smile, pressing a few buttons on the phone and then pressing the receiver to her ear. "Miss Reisert? There's a George King here to see you. He says he has an appointment with you under the name Sofia Warren, his fiancée." She paused for a moment before speaking again. "Okay, I'll let him know."

She hung up the phone.

"Do I pass the test?" George teased and she laughed.

"Yes, you do. She asked if you would take a seat over in the lobby lounge. She'll be right with you."

"Sounds good. Thank you for your help."

"It was my pleasure."

With a false smile still plastered on his face, George wandered over to the lobby 'lounge'—a collection of couches situated away from the desk and the hustle-and-bustle of the hotel. Sitting down, he glanced in the direction of the carefully arranged magazines on the coffee tables, and settled with just twirling his sunglasses in his hand, imagining that it was a knife instead.

Since the near-failure of the last job, his manager had thought it would be wise to train him to use a knife. Besides, just because he was the computer 'geek' did not mean that his life was not in danger on a job. It never hurt to be prepared.

"Hello, Mr. King?" a pleasant voice called from behind him and he jumped up, startled.

"Miss Reisert, I presume?"

"Yes, I'm Lisa Reisert. I thought my meeting was with Sofia—" the pretty woman with auburn hair said pleasantly; clearly someone who had been working with people far too long and had developed excellent manners.

"She's stuck at the bridal shop. I'm guessing you know how that is, having this job and all..."

"Oh, I understand completely."

Lisa was intriguing. She had a pale complexion that was accented by her light make-up and sparkling green eyes. She was even more beautiful than Sofia in her own way and without any of the superficiality that he hated about most young women. She had the look of a mature professional, yet George could sense that she was about his age and he wondered if perhaps some tragedy had forced her to grow up too quickly.

_Lovely Lisa…yes, that's what I'll call you. What rock were you hiding under when I was dating Sofia?_

"Well, I'm very new at this whole wedding thing, so I was hoping you could help me out? Sofia really wants the reception here and I believe she already made a reservation? She wants me to go over plans with you and finalize all preparations."

"Oh, not a problem," Lisa said; gesturing to the hallway perpendicular from the lobby. "Shall we?"

George eagerly followed, hoping to learn more about the striking young woman. She reminded him of himself; eager to please, and a young rising star hard at work. Very few people could pull off any success like his at a young age, or even hers. She was in charge of a rather important part of hotel life and was younger, if not the same age, as some of the desk clerks.

_Beauty and brains—what more could one ask for in a woman?_

They chatted about various services the hotel could offer, wedding colors, and how to decorate the ballroom.

"You really seem to know your stuff. How long have you been working here?" George inquired after nearly an hour.

"Since the same time I started college. It was supposed to help pay for classes and I was majoring in business, so it seemed to go together."

"And you're what? Twenty?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Lisa asked, surprised at his correct guess.

"Lucky guess. You don't seem very young in looks, but intellectually, you are far beyond most people our age."

"So you're what? Twenty-one, twenty-two?"

"Twenty-one going on twenty-two."

"Ah, I see." She smiled warmly at him. "You work in business too?"

"Computers."

Lisa nodded, her lips pursed slightly. "That's a tricky line of work at times. Personally, I really hate computers."

"I don't blame you. It takes a certain…finesse to handle them. Kind of like people."

"Yeah, I bet. If only people could shut up when you pressed a button though," she remarked with a sigh, her green eyes meeting his briefly before glancing at the floor.

"Is something wrong?"

"No—nothing…"

"Are you sure?"

She chuckled softly. "You sound just like my dad. He's gotten worse since…"

"Since what?"

She regarded him questioningly. George mentally smacked himself.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! You need to learn to stop prying! You can't expect someone you just met to spill their life story to you! _

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."

"It's okay. I'm just going through a rough time right now. My parents are arguing a lot and it's kinda on my mind a lot."

"When I was younger, my parents fought all the time and over everything—no matter how insignificant or dumb it was. I was sure that they'd divorce eventually, but a car accident killed them both before they could ever file."

"Wow, how old were you?"

"Twelve," he said. "My father was drunk and lost control of the car. I don't miss them though."

"Why not? They're your parents." Lisa seemed shocked by his cool demeanor.

"They hated me. My father never missed an opportunity to yell at me, berate me, or beat me. It was no way to live. It sounds like your father cares a lot about you. You should be grateful. You're very lucky, Lisa."

"Thanks. I'm sorry about your life though…"

He waved it off. "It's in the past. Can't bring back the dead. Not that I would want to. Now, about the reception…"

* * *

_A week later…_

George was fiddling with his bow tie. He hated wearing a full monkey suit. He always thought it made him look remotely like a penguin and he especially loathed ties. He could never quite figure out how to tie the damn things so that they would not choke him. If it had not been for Sofia, then he would never have gone to all this trouble.

"Ready, Georgie boy?" His best man approached him. He was a relative of Sofia's that he had only just met at the rehearsal. Since George did not have any friends from work, he did not have an alternative choice in the matter. Instead, he had to make do with some strangely-named, jock of a cousin that liked to punch his arm.

_I hate nicknames. The name is George—not 'Georgie' or 'Georgia'—I'm not a freaking girl! Damn, if I only had a knife…_

His fingers actually ached for the weapon that he had recently been given. The past week he had spent every spare moment learning how to use it defensively and also how to torture and kill with a sharp blade. It had been presented to him for 'his own protection' according to his manager, but he knew that was just a front. Apparently, no one went around unarmed in his profession—one never knew when they might have to kill someone... Unfortunately, he could not wear it at the wedding and he was missing the comfort that it brought.

George entered the chapel and stood at the altar; waiting patiently for the ceremony to start.

The trio of bridesmaids clad in burgundy gowns made their way up the aisle and stood off to his right. He was vaguely reminded of the color of crimson blood, but that image fell out of his head as soon as Sofia appeared. She decided to forgo the tradition of wearing white and was clad instead in a pale pink dress with a flowing train and a white, pink, and red veil that covered her face and elegantly styled dark hair. Sofia carried a heavy bouquet of white and red flowers tied with gold and red ribbon.

She walked down the aisle alone, having no father alive to give her away as tradition dictated. Not that she appeared to mind. Sofia was enjoying the attention, smiling at each and every camera as it materialized and even posing at times for pictures.

George swallowed nervously as she drew closer. Suddenly she was beside him and he was lifting her veil. The words uttered by the priest flew into his mind.

As he was about to say 'I do', Sofia's face disappeared and was replaced with that of Lisa's. He was marrying Lisa, not Sofia. He pledged himself to the redhead in his mind, not the dark haired woman in front of him.

But when Sofia's red lips met his, reality sank in and his heart fell.

_Damn, why didn't I meet Lisa first?_

**Author's Notes:**

A lot of people seemed disturbed by George's abusive nature in the last chapter. The reason I put that in is because by the time he's stalking Lisa, he is always abusive and the behavior pattern is set in stone. Part of the reason he smacked her is that he was drunk (drunks are very thoughtless and nasty) and other part is that he observed his father doing the same thing, so in his warped mind it's okay.

Sorry about the long delay in posting. The ideas were there, but sadly I was not. I was sick all week and effectively out of commission. Now, I'm better, so hopefully the chapters will posted sooner. Enjoy and thanks for reading/reviewing!


	7. Chapter Six

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Six**

The reception was a hit. George knew that he should attribute the success to Sofia, but it was really all the hard work of one woman who was not his beloved wife. The beautiful auburn haired hotel employee named Lisa Reisert was solely responsible for all the details. If he had met Lisa before Sofia, then he would have most likely married her. She was beautiful, smart, and had an air of mystery around her that intrigued him.

"How are things going?" Lisa asked him, her name tag pinned to her lovely dress. He had invited her to the reception in thanks for her hard work. That and he wanted to see her again.

_Lovely, lovely Lisa…why, you look extra nice today…_

"Fine, I think. Everyone looks really happy," George replied, a genuine smile on his face, unlike the false one he had on earlier.

"Yes… so where's your bride? Sofia?"

"Sofia? I'm not entirely sure. She said something about having to entertain her guests and disappeared after the toast." He gestured towards the head table where Sofia had dragged him upon arrival. He had lost about twenty minutes of his life trying to smile for the cameras and people glancing at him throughout the mind-numbingly dull toasts.

"Oh, well tell her that she looks amazing, will you?"

"Of course."

_Only if I can tell you how beautiful you are…_

Lisa began to walk away and he reached out and took her arm. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Her face turned a vivid shade of red reflecting her embarrassment. "Um…"

"It's just one drink."

"Okay," she agreed happily, her defenses easily broken by his winning smile. _I'm not a threat, Leese. I would never hurt you._

"Good, good. What'll you have?"

"Well, a grapefruit Sea Breeze."

"Okay, let's go get you one," George led her over to the bar, ordering her drink and a refill for himself. They chatted politely while the bar tender mixed up their drinks and then George handed the man the money with a nice-sized tip.

"For you," he said pleasantly, handing Lisa the tall glass.

"Oh, thank you."

"Let's get out of here," he suggested. "It's too crowded and I don't know anyone."

"Um…"

"We can go to the lobby, right?" _I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, Leese. But for the sake of my sanity and yours, let's get away from all these drunks before our IQ's start to drop._

Lisa nodded and allowed him to escort her out of the stuffy ballroom and away from the noisy family members and acquaintances that Sofia had insisted upon inviting. He had never been overly fond of large numbers of people.

"So why don't you know anyone?" Lisa asked as they walked slowly towards the lobby. "I don't mean to intrude, but isn't it supposed to be your wedding? Where's your family and friends?"

"Dead. All of my relatives are dead and I have no friends."

"Really? I'm sorry—"

"It's okay. I never got along with them. That doesn't mean I wanted them dead, but they are certainly no great loss to the world. Most of them were alcoholics."

_And I was a mistake. A drunken mistake that no one wanted. It's amazing that I was even born._

"Do you worry about becoming like them?"

"Did you train to be a shrink? 'Cause you sure sound like one," he teased and Lisa laughed.

"No, but my dad gave me a lot of self-help books. He's always been worried about me and my well-being."

"Over protective?"

"Just a little bit," she said, empathizing with her fingers, holding her thumb and pointer fingers mere centimeters apart.

"Ah, one of those parents."

"Yeah."

He felt very relaxed and at ease with Lisa. There were no false pretenses between them; no lies and facades that he had to struggle to maintain. Nothing was on his mind except the striking woman in front of him. He was free from the stress of his job, of his limited double-life, and also of Sofia's constant nagging. _The alcohol streaming through my veins doesn't exactly hurt either…_ he thought wryly.

"I'm really glad you could come."

"Me too." Lisa had brightened since they had escaped the crush of people. _I bet they get on your nerves too._

A few quiet moments passed as they soaked up the silence and each other's company.

George suddenly turned towards her and pressed his lips against hers, causing her green eyes to fly open in shock. She shoved him hard; placing her right hand on his chest and effectively breaking the kiss as he fell to the floor.

"You're drunk aren't you?" she accused; her eyebrows rose as she examined him sprawled on the floor where he had fallen.

"No, I'm actually quite sober."

"Then why the hell did you do that?!"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"You're married, remember? We can't…" Lisa was pacing the small space near the couch they had been sitting on.

"Can't what?" he inquired, blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

"We can't be together! It's not right! I'm sorry…"

She was shaking her head sadly; the curls bouncing and capturing the light. Her hands were shaking and she had a hard time gripping her drink glass. George picked himself up off the floor and plucked the glass out of her hand and set it on the coffee table. He then took her small hands in his and rubbed them in an attempt to stop them from shaking. Sure enough, it ceased and Lisa took in a sharp and painful-sounding breath.

He dropped her hands and cupped her face in his hands, while his thumbs gently caressed her cheeks. Her eyes were downcast—she could not seem to look at him.

_What have I done? Don't be angry with me, Lisa. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't know what came over me…_

George sighed deeply before breaking the silence. "I understand. I'm just as confused as you are. I love my wife, but I can't help but feel something between us."

"I know. And it scares me."

"You shouldn't have to be scared."

"This is wrong." _The voice of reason, now where's your feelings, Lisa? What does your heart tell you? Does it tell you what mine tells me?_

"I know."

"Lisa?" called a frantic sounding employee who appeared before them, causing George to drop his hands a millisecond before being seen.

"Yes?" She sounded frazzled and tired.

"There's a disturbance in the ballroom. They're looking for you."

"Come on," George said. "Let's go."

They returned to the ballroom. Along the way their individual masks went up and by the time they entered the room, they were two professionals; the confusion that had occupied their thoughts moments before banished to the dark recesses of their minds.

Sofia was stumbling around the room drunk, swearing and destroying any object in her path as she moved. George shot a helpless glance at Lisa and then hurried to his wife's side.

"Sofia, sweetheart." He ripped the wine glass from her hand and banged it down on a nearby table.

"Get the fuck away," Sofia hissed coldly.

"I can't do that." He seized her wrists in a vise-like grasp before she could reach for more alcohol. She whimpered in pain.

"Get your fucking hands off me!"

He shook her roughly. "Sofia, stop it!"

She clumsily stomped on his foot. He gritted his teeth in pain before releasing her long enough to smack her soundly. Sofia recoiled from the blow and fell backwards into an empty chair.

Only Lisa, Sofia, and George were left in the enormous ballroom. All the guests had left in a huff when the bar had closed down and Sofia had begun a drunken tirade and proceeded to break various objects in the hotel. The employees had yet to come in to do clean-up.

"George, stop!" Lisa called, rushing over to intervene.

"Stop what? Her being drunk? I wish!"

"No, hitting her. Don't hit her!" She seized his arm, trying to wrench him away from Sofia in protest.

George's forehead collided with Lisa's and she collapsed in his arms. He gently laid her motionless body on the floor and then, with narrowed eyes, glared hatefully at his stunned wife.

_Look what you made me do!_

**Author's Notes:**

This is the last of Lisa that we'll see for a while, but I will say that she's never far from George's mind. Oh, I had a question about why Lisa doesn't remember him when they meet in the airport and it's a compound answer: the events in this chapter are nearly eight years before they see each other again, she did lose a bit of memory with the head-butt, and George looks slightly different from Jackson because he changes over time (from short dark hair to longish brown hair, etc). I hope that straightens things out. Major thanks to emptyvoices for her help and also to everyone who took the time to review and/or read! Enjoy!


	8. Chapter Seven

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Seven**

George roughly dragged Sofia from the ballroom. _I have to get away before Lisa wakes up…I can't let her know that I hurt her._

"George…" she tried to speak, her breath stolen by his rapid pace down the hallway.

"Don't you dare talk to me after what you've done!" he snapped angrily, squeezing her wrist tightly, smiling when her face registered the pain.

"Please…"

He raised a hand and she cowered. Satisfied with her fearful reaction, he yanked her along after him once more. He had already checked into their room earlier in the day and the keycard was in his pocket. They would be safe hiding out there until the following morning and he could surely convince Sofia to play along with a cover story should anyone ask questions.

He had worked too hard for too long and there was no way he would let his wife suddenly screw up his life.

"What—what are you doing?" she asked him after he opened the room door.

"We're going to do what normal couples do on their wedding night," George replied coldly and without any trace of emotion in his voice. "Just because you had a drunken fit and smacked yourself doesn't mean that we're not a newlywed couple."

_Take the suggestion, Sofia, don't fight me. You were drunk and that's all you'll remember in the morning. I would never hurt you._

"Oh…" she said softly.

"I grabbed your wrist to stop you—I'm sorry if I hurt you." _Be sincere…show her that you're not a threat._

"I'm sorry, George. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you, sweetheart. You're drunk and you don't know any better." He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. _I'll never forgive you for hurting Lisa…_

"Mmm," she murmured.

"You feeling better now, Sofia?"

"Yes."

"Good, good…"

* * *

"Miss Reisert, are you okay?" A concerned man with a name tag pinned to his collar was standing over her.

With a groan, Lisa sat up and gripped her head. "What happened?"

"That's just what I was going to ask you. Did you hit your head?"

"Ah, I think so."

"Let me get a medical kit," he offered. Lisa glanced wearily at him, identifying his name as David by means of the nametag.

"No—I'm fine."

He ignored her and called out for someone to grab a first aid kit. "You might have a concussion or a cut."

"A cut?"

"There's some blood on your head and broken glass around you. I really need to take a look at the wound."

"Is anyone else hurt?" She glanced around for others, but besides the staff cleaning up the ballroom, she was alone with David.

"No, you were the only one in the ballroom."

She tried to stand. "I have to get back to the desk." She wobbled on her feet.

"Miss Reisert, you need to sit down," he ordered, wrapping his arm around her weakened frame and assisted her to a chair. "You should go to the emergency room to get your head looked at."

"I have to—"

"No, you don't." He was firm.

Lisa sighed and her shoulders slumped. _Guess I'm not going anywhere for a while…_

The first aid kit arrived and David searched it for cotton swabs and alcohol. "This is going to sting, but I have to clean the cut."

Before she could protest, he swiped at the cut on her head and she let out a sharp gasp of pain.

"There's a shard of glass in there." He reached for tweezers and moved to pluck at her head when she seized his wrist.

"What training do you have that allows you to poke around in my head?"

"Medical training was part of my job in the Army."

"You're Army?"

"Special Ops."

"And you work here?" Disbelief registered in her voice.

"Just as a temporary job. I'm on leave from the Army for an injury."

"Oh, wow. I didn't—"

"It's okay. Let's just get you fixed up, shall we?"

* * *

George did not sleep well that night. He could not stop thinking about Lisa. He had a one-track mind and he was mentally kicking himself for harming her. Even trying to get her to ignore what he had done to Sofia was not a good excuse. There was no excuse for what he had done to Lisa. After all the time he spent earning her trust…it was all for nothing.

There was no way Lisa would forgive him. She would be terrified of him now.

_With good reason… I'm a monster…_

He glanced over at Sofia, passed out beside him. So far, all she had done was fuel the fire he was desperately trying to fight. He did not want to hurt anyone—least of all Lisa.

_I won't be like them—I never will be. I won't be that way!_

The familiar feeling of helplessness was sinking in. He needed something to do before he did something drastic—like smother Sofia in her sleep.

_Stop it! Don't think that way or you'll do it!_

His right hand had already closed on a pillow before he stopped himself. His murderous impulses were multiplying.

_It would be relatively painless—she's too drunk to notice. Then she wouldn't have to deal that monster of a hangover in the morning. I'd be doing her a favor…_

His hands were shaking. He now had both hands on the pillow.

_You'll regret it. You don't want to kill her, do you?_

_She lost me Lisa._

_Lisa…_

The figure beside him was changing. Auburn hair replaced the dark hair spread around the nearby pillow. The tan skin was lightening and becoming pale.

_No, it can't be…_

George dropped the pillow as green eyes fluttered open.

"George?" a sleepy voice called.

_No…it's a dream…it has to be a dream!_

_But what if it's not?_

"George? Are you okay?" A warm hand reached out and touched his shoulder. He flinched at the contact. "George?"

"Get away from me!" he yelled, knocking the slight figure over.

"George?" She was trembling.

"Get out!"

_What's wrong with me?_

**Author's Notes:**

George is starting to lose his grip on reality now, which will only get worse as he discovers Sofia's betrayal.

Happy Turkey Day everyone! I'm now a few days ahead on this story, so expect three back-to-back updates (one a day!). Enjoy and thanks for reading/reviewing! Major thanks to emptyvoices for her help!


	9. Chapter Eight

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Eight**

_A few months later…_

George relaxed in his desk chair, stretching his cramped arms out and placed behind his head, interlacing his fingers. He was smirking as he glanced at the completed simulation of his latest assignment. He was supposed to make a presentation and lead the run-through later in the day. Until then, he had plenty of time to kill.

His trusty knife was attached to his belt where he could easily access it. Since returning from his honeymoon with Sofia, he had spent extra time learning how to use the blade. He had a feeling that sooner or later he would be required to use it in the field to test his loyalty.

He picked up his cell phone and dialed the number of his home phone. Sofia did not work and usually spent the day hanging around the apartment watching soap operas and reading women's magazines.

The phone rang and rang until the machine kicked in. Puzzled, George hung up.

_Where could she be? She didn't say anything about any plans today. Is she hurt? Did someone break in?_

Miami's crime rate was on the rise and he knew that his company was partially responsible for it. Something was not right with Sofia and it bothered him.

_What could it be?_

* * *

Sofia rolled away from her lover, panting. She had met Andrew Karr around the same time she had been planning on seeking out George. Andrew was an average man with above average looks. He was also sensitive and caring, a welcome relief to George's intense mood swings.

She glanced over at the phone on the bedside table. It had rung earlier, but she had been too busy to answer it. The caller id listed a missed call from George King.

_Shit…_

"Andrew? You've got to go."

"Why love?" His sleepy voice came from behind her.

"The phone call—it was from my husband. You've got to get out of here before he comes home!"

"Shit, you're kidding me. He's coming here?"

"Probably. He's paranoid about my safety. You've got to leave now. He's got a temper—"

_He'll kill me if he finds Andrew._

"Sofia, baby, why don't you just leave him?" Andrew had wrapped his arms around her. "I've seen the bruises. You've been documenting them, right?"

"Yes, of course," she mumbled.

"Then why don't you take it somewhere? The police or a lawyer. You could divorce him."

"Or I could kill him," she said with a bright smile, turning around to face him. "I could kill him and take all of his money. He's so trusting that I'm sure it all goes to me."

"How much money are we talking here?" Andrew was suddenly interested.

"More than enough to set us up for life."

"How would you kill him?"

"Slow-acting poison so he'll be weak and I can smother him in my sleep "accidentally"." A cold, cruel smile crossed her face.

"Oh, ice-cold, baby," he smirked, kissing her neck.

Sofia moaned. "You know it."

"Well, I'll leave the details to you."

"Mmm, you'd better."

* * *

"Sofia?" George's was worried as he unlocked the apartment door. "Sweetheart?"

"In here," her sleep-filled voice reached his ears from the direction of the bedroom.

"What happened to you? I called earlier and you didn't answer the phone. Are you hurt?" He cautiously made his way down the hallway, knife in hand, stepping lightly on the floorboards.

"I fell asleep. Is something wrong?" A shadow appeared in the hallway and George quickly sheathed the blade. "George?"

"I was worried, that's all." He turned away from her, heading back to the door. "I've got to get back."

"Why did you make the trip out here?"

"I was concerned. That's all."

"George, is there something going on that you aren't telling me? You never do anything without a reason." Sofia followed him, her arms wrapping around his waist and her head leaning on his shoulder. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"Miami is dangerous. I hate the idea of you being alone all day and the target of a killer."

"Someone's trying to kill me?" She released him and he spun around. "George, how—"

"I don't know that, but part of my job is to analyze crime patterns. It worries me to think that you might be a potential target. You're a beautiful young woman who is at home all day. All someone has to do is watch you for a few days and they would know that I'm not there to protect you."

"Why would someone want to kill me?"

"Sophia, people kill for all kinds of reasons. I didn't mean to worry you."

"George, please don't go."

"I have to."

He picked up his discarded laptop bag and cast glance at his wife conveying the message 'I'm sorry' and left the apartment.

_Cold, George, that was very cold. First, scare the crap out of her and then walk out. Smooth, very smooth, you heartless bastard…_ he berated himself on his way to his car.

**Author's Notes:**

Well, finally the site it working enough for me to update.

Anyways, Lisa will be making another appearance later on in the story and I should have the next chapter up tomorrow baring anymore disasters or computer problems. Enjoy, and major thanks to emptyvoices for her help and also to everyone who read/reviewed!


	10. Chapter Nine

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Nine**

_She's lying to me…_

George leaned forward and hit his forehead soundly against the steering wheel of the car. He felt a sharp sting of pain and then it dulled, leaving his head feeling fuzzy.

_Why would she lie?_

Her hair was a mess and yet her clothes did not look slept in. Her hair was mussed like it always was following sex, but they hadn't slept together since last night, and surely she would have showered by that afternoon. Sofia was paranoid about her appearance.

_What does she have to hide?_

* * *

The next time Sofia left the house, George installed cameras that sent feeds directly to his laptop that only he could access. He neglected to tell her about the cameras and monitored her while he was at work. It was on his second day of surveillance that his blood boiled over and he nearly smashed his laptop in a fit of rage.

He had just tuned in and swept the apartment for any signs of her. Sofia was in their bedroom, naked, and in bed with another man.

Anger filled him—the sharp sting of betrayal was fresh. He had his suspicions, but he had never expected this…such a blatant betrayal and in his home, his bed, with his wife…

Furiously, he attacked the keys of his laptop, retrieving a picture of the man and running the image against the DMV database he hacked into. Fifteen minutes later, George had a positive ID on the person having sex with his wife in his bed at that very moment.

_Lying little bitch. I'll kill you. You'll suffer for this. I trusted you—I gave you everything! And this is how you repay me!_

Inside the confines of his private office, George King began to plot the perfect set of murders that would make him famous in the company ranks, yet would exonerate him at the same time to public eyes. When it was finished, both his unfaithful wife and her lover would be dead. He would be avenged.

_You should have known that I'd find out. You must think I'm stupid._

Sofia would die. He would make sure of it.

* * *

He was waiting for Andrew Karr when the man exited the Kings' apartment building. His right hand stroked the hilt of his favorite knife as he followed his prey.

"Andrew Karr?" He stepped out from his hiding place, announcing his presence.

"Yes? Do I know you?" The young man was confused.

"No, but I know you. Walk with me; it's time that we've had a little chat."

With his hat pulled over his short-cropped hair and his sunglasses shielding his cold blue eyes, no one would recognize him as George King. Not even Sofia, the lying little bitch that she was…

_Breathe in and out… relax… calm and focused… do the job…_

"I have a proposition for you," George said once they were farther away from the crowds, walking on the sidewalk.

"I don't want to hear it." Andrew shook his head and started to walk away.

George grabbed him by the arm and slammed the other man into the brick wall of the nearby alley. He slipped his knife from the sheath and the blade glinted in the sunlight. "You'll listen to what I have to say or you'll find yourself missing something." He tapped the knife on Andrew's belt threateningly and a horrified look crossed the young man's face.

"What do you propose?" Andrew asked quietly, his voice wavering uncertainly.

"I want to hire you to kill Sofia King. You do know her, correct?"

"No—" he started to say, but George tapped the knife and he sighed. "Yes, I know her."

"Good. I want you to shoot her. Her husband hired me to plan the murder. I have a plan, but I don't do wet work."

"Who are you?"

"No names. Just know that if you try to double-cross me, you'll end up dead in a ditch with a knife in your gut." George smirked brightly.

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

_Gullible fool… what does she see in you?_

"You will shoot her with this." George pulled a gun from his pocket and placed it in Andrew's pocket. "There is a full clip in it, so use as many bullets as you want. It doesn't matter as long she's dead in the end."

"What about me? Won't I get caught?"

"No. You'll come to a prearranged meeting spot following the hit and I'll set you up with $500,000 cash and a new identity. Then you can simply disappear."

"$500,000? To kill her?"

"Mr. King pays those working for him extremely well. You would be stupid to pass up this opportunity."

"Who is this Mr. King? Mafia or something?"

"No, he works for a prestigious company that you've never heard of. He knows people in high places. This is not the type of man you want to piss off."

"No wonder she can't stand him," Andrew mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

"His wife, Sofia; she can't stand him. He scares her half to death. She told me."

_Stay calm; don't let him get under your skin. He'll be dead soon enough._

"Well, he should scare her—and you too. You'll do the job."

With that, George turned and walked away from Andrew Somerville.

"Wait—how will I know where to meet you?"

"I'll contact you," he called back, smiling widely. "Don't kill her until I give you the go-ahead."

_Good-bye, Sofia, my love. You're getting what you deserve. _

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry about the delay. My teachers all hate me at the moment and are drowning me in homework. Plus my back is acting up, so it's hard for me to sit at a computer (or a laptop) even long enough to update at the end of my day.

The next chapter is the major turning point for the entire story. We'll see whether or not Andrew follows through with George's plan, what happens to Sofia, and George's break with reality and how he avoids lying. Thanks to emptyvoices for her help and also to everyone who read/reviewed! We're getting closer to the end and also the fun stuff. Enjoy!


	11. Chapter Ten

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Ten**

"I can't see you anymore," Sofia whispered harshly when she opened the apartment door to reveal Andrew Karr. "I think he knows."

"No, he doesn't know. What makes you think that?"

"He's smart—George is very smart. I think he figured it out."

"What about your plan to kill him?" Andrew suggested with a half-smile.

"Do you really think I should? Then we could be together."

"Yes, I do. Now will you let me in?"

Sofia nodded and opened the door all the way, stepping aside to let him pass. Once he was inside, she shut the door. His lips found hers and her back hit the wall. She moaned softly as his kisses caressed her neck.

They headed down the hall to the bedroom, kicking off shoes along the way which muffled the entrance of George King. His knife was in hand and a cruel smile graced his face.

"Can you sit right there, baby?" Andrew's voice carried down the hall.

"Why?" she asked breathlessly.

An audible click came, followed by a gasp from Sofia. George decided to enter the room and he stood behind Andrew Karr, whose gun was pointed at Sofia's head.

"Why, hello Sofia. Did you think I wouldn't find out about your—indiscretions? Do you think I'm stupid, Sofia? Well?" George sneered.

"I never meant to hurt you!" she cried out pitifully, her brown eyes glancing worriedly at the shinning gun in Andrew's hands.

"Then why plot against me? Yes, I know about your plans to either divorce me or kill me if things didn't go right."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way!"

"Really? Then why don't you tell me about your plan? How was it supposed to end? Me in the ground? Tell me what the hell you were doing!"

"It was a con," she whispered. "I needed the money and you seemed like such a nice guy."

He snorted in disgust. _Stupid bitch…trying to play me…I'll teach you…_

"I never planned for it to last this long. But I needed one thing—a child. I needed to have a baby for the plan to work. A child to care for combined with your record of abuse would have given me everything."

"Selfish little whore," he hissed, disgusted at her plans. "Good-bye."

"Please, George, please forgive me. I never meant for it to end this way!" Sofia begged.

"Well, sweetheart, neither did I."

George went to stand behind Andrew Karr, whose arm was shaking as he tried to keep the gun trained on Sofia. George placed his sharp knife against his throat and the young man gulped loudly.

"Shoot her," George hissed.

Andrew trembled and George dug the knife into his neck, breaking the skin slightly. The other man cried out and his finger slipped on the trigger.

A gunshot rang out and he smiled widely as Sofia screamed and a large red stain bloomed on her chest. She gasped for air and reached for the phone, trying to dial for help. Andrew was sobbing, but George remained unmoved.

"Get out of my house. I'll meet you in twenty minutes at your house. Now go!"

The frightened man fled the scene, gun in hand as George watched Sofia bled to death upon their bed, trying in vain to save herself.

"You—murderer… killed us both…"

"No sweetheart, you killed yourself. You did this to yourself. You were a bad girl and bad girls are punished."

"You'll pay," she gasped, drawing her final breath as the 911 operator finally picked up.

George scoffed at his dead wife and swept out of the apartment. He still had to finish the job…

* * *

"You did well," George congratulated the upset man.

"She's dead…" he said, shaking his head. "I can't believe it…"

He rolled his crystalline eyes; annoyed at Sofia's lover's melancholy attitude surrounding her demise. _She was two-timing you—the only person she cared about was herself. How could you love someone like that?_

"Well, you could always join her," he suggested and the distraught man looked at him curiously.

"What are you talking about?"

"You could kill yourself. Or you can take the money and run, before the police catch you."

"The police?" His voice was cracking now.

"Yes, the police. They'll arrest you for her murder if they find you."

"Murder?"

"Yes, you killed her, remember? You killed Sofia."

Andrew's eyes went wide in fright. "Oh no…" he whispered as if the serious of the situation was finally sinking in.

"If you kill yourself, then no one can connect you to her. There is no need to rub her name in the mud even if she's dead. The news of your affair would ruin her. You need to protect her."

"Kill myself?" his hoarse voice was nervous and edgy. "You're talking suicide, aren't you?"

"Don't think about it that way. You're doing it to protect Sofia. You loved her, remember? That's why you killed her—to end her suffering and to stop the affair before it ruined her. That's why you did it."

"I did?"

"Yes, and that's also why you are going to pick up the gun and shoot yourself. You are going to do it to protect her or I'll do it for you."

George moved towards him, his gloved hand reaching towards the half-heartedly concealed gun in Andrew's pocket. Andrew pulled it out and looked at the metallic weapon, sighing as he ran his fingers down the barrel.

"Let me do it."

George nodded respectfully and stepped back as Andrew raised the gun to his head. He was shaking as his finger slipped on the trigger and he died. _Ahh, the power of suggestion…_

George smiled widely as he grabbed his briefcase and left the apartment to return to his own. He now to play the part of the bereaved husband and call in his wife's murder. Plus he had some security tapes to doctor to pin the murder on Andrew Karr.

_She got what she deserved…she tried to ruin me. She betrayed me!_

**Author's Notes:**

I've really been slaking off on updating lately and I'm really sorry about that. I didn't get this chapter edited, so hopefully there aren't too many mistakes and Sofia and Andrew's deaths are plausible. I was going to have George shoot Andrew, but then I figured that the police would be investigating Sofia's murder and trying to pin it on George, so I didn't want to have him actually fire a gun that could potentially link him to either murder. So I tried a good old murder-suicide plot. Enjoy and thanks for reading/reviewing!


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Eleven**

"911, please state your emergency," said a bored operator after George arrived home with gifts in his arms, only to find Sofia's dead body in their bed. He had immediately dialed 911 on the home phone.

"My wife—there's blood, lots of blood…. I think she's dead," he said nervously.

"Sir, what happened?"

"I came home and she's just lying there… There's blood everywhere… So much blood…"

"Sir, I need you to calm down. Where are you?"

George rattled off the apartment's address and smiled when she said that an ambulance and the police were on their way.

_Everything's going to plan… the lying little bitch is dead, I have an alibi, and he'll be blamed for it… I'm going to get away with everything._

* * *

Police swarmed the tidy apartment. Cameras flashed and whirred, police officers took notes and reports, while other collected and marked evidence. At the center of the circus stood George King, with a tear-streaked face, as he paced a small expanse of floor. His hands shook and he was in shock, unlike a large number of husbands who found their dead spouses. He was far from a calm, in-control businessman.

"Who would do something like that?" he asked the police officer in charge. "How could anyone do that to her?"

"Mr. King, did your wife have any enemies?"

"Sofia? No, everyone loved her. No one would ever want to hurt her." _Except for me—I killed the lying little whore. _

"Well, I'm sorry to say that someone did want to hurt her. Someone killed her."

"I-I still can't believe it. It's unreal. She can't be dead—she was so full of life… It's seems like just yesterday we were married and now…now this…" he choked.

"These things happen," said the officer emotionlessly. "Would you mind being fingerprinted to eliminate your prints from the scene? It might help us find her killer."

"Am I a suspect?"

"Not at the moment."

"Did—did she suffer?" he inquired, his voice choked up again and fresh tears falling from his crystalline eyes. _She better have… stupid bitch…_

"No," lied the police office. There was plenty of evidence to suggest that Sofia King had still been alive for several minutes after being shot. There was evidence that she had tried to phone for help, but had been unsuccessful.

"I should have just come home," sighed George, shaking his head sadly. "If I had only come straight home, then maybe—just maybe—she'd still be alive."

"Where were you, if not at work?"

"I went downtown to one of her favorite stores after stopping in a jewelry store. I finished up early at work and I wanted to surprise her with some gifts…" His eyes fell to the discard pile of gifts lying near the bedroom door. He had dropped them upon spotting Sofia's motionless body. "I can't believe this…"

George buried his head in his hands and the officer muttered a quick "We'll be in touch" and left him to grieve.

* * *

_A few days later…_

George sat in a rough metal chair in an interrogation room at the station. He had been questioned about his life with Sofia, and how things were between them, and so on. He was very bored with the invasive questions and was counting down the seconds until he assumed he would be free to go.

"Mr. King, did you know that your wife was having an affair?"

George froze. "Sofia? You must be kidding. She loved me and I loved her! I gave her everything that she could have wanted!" _Yet, she still betrayed me! _

"I know this is hard for you, Mr. King, but did you know this man?" A photograph was pushed across the table and placed in front of his eyes.

"Is this him? Is this the guy who murdered my wife?" He turned his blue-eyed gaze towards the annoying officer who merely nodded.

"We believe so."

"Let me at that son of a bitch! He killed my wife! He killed my Sofia! My sweet, sweet Sofia…" _Sweetheart, why did you have to do this to me? Why did you have to go and betray me? We could have been happy together…_

"I'm sorry, Mr. King, but he's already dead. He committed suicide shortly after killing your wife."

"How? I hope that bastard suffered!" he growled bitterly. _Serves him right for stealing her from me…_

"It was rather quickly and painless. He shot himself in the head with the same gun used on your wife."

"Why? Why would he kill her?" _Let's see if you're smart enough to figure this puzzle out, assholes…_

"Apparently your wife was pregnant. It is possible that she believed it was his and she panicked. If she told him, then maybe we have a motive if she threatened to tell you about the affair."

"A baby?" George went paper-white; turning as pale as a blank white sheet. "She had a baby?"

"It was only a few weeks old at most." _How dare she?! How could she do this to me?_

"Can't you do some kind of test? See who was the father?"

"We'll need a DNA sample from you."

"Whatever you need. I want to find out what happened. I need to know why she died like that. I need the truth." _How dare you hide this from me!_

**Author's Notes:**

George is enjoying messing around with the police officer. He is really starting to crack and is putting on a rather convincing show of the upset and grieving husband. He's really disoriented, therefore details and names escape him (hence the nameless police officer and other vague details). In the next chapter, George will attend Sofia's funeral and he's almost about to become Jackson Rippner—I promise. Also, we'll see what happens with Lisa. Thanks for reading/reviewing! Once again, this chapter wasn't edited, so I apologize for any all mistakes.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Twelve**

George's cell phone rang a few weeks later while he was boxing up Sofia's belongings at their apartment. His boss had given him leave to prepare for her funeral and to recover from her death. He was not doing any projects at the moment because of her murder.

"George King," he answered, balancing the phone on his shoulder as he tapped up a box of clothing to be donated. He was keeping very few of her belongings and had already burned most of her pictures.

"Mr. King, this is Detective Brown. The results just came back from the paternity test."

"Oh?" He stopped taping the box and held the phone to his ear. "Who was the father?"

"You are. Sofia was carrying your baby."

George felt a sharp stab of pain in his heart and dropped the phone to the hardwood floor, watching in a daze as it flew apart.

_No, no…this can't be happening. She—she couldn't have… My child…she killed my child…_

* * *

_A few days later..._

George stood motionless at the graveside as Sofia's highly polished casket was carefully lowered into the ground. He tossed a single red rose into the grave as well as the gold band he had worn on his finger for the past few months. Dirt slowly filled in the gaping hole and he turned and walked away with his hands shoved deep inside his dress pants pockets.

He had worn his nicest suit—a dark pinstriped one—paired with a light blue button-up shirt. There was no tie to choke him and his leather shoes shone in the dim afternoon sunlight. Sunglasses covered his downcast eyes.

_If you hadn't betrayed me, then this wouldn't have happened. We could have been happy—you, me, and our son…_

The grave stone that he had ordered helped his image as the grieving widower.

_Sofia Warren King_

_Beloved Wife, Taken Before Her Time_

_Jackson King_

_Who Never Got A Chance To Live_

His son would never get a chance at life because of his adulterous wife. He had never even known about the baby until after he had watched her die. He did not even know if he had even wanted a child, but that bitch had taken a part of him to her grave.

_I'll never forgive you, Sofia,_ he swore inside his head.

"Rest in pieces, bitch," he hissed angrily. "You took everything from me, even after everything I had done for you. I hope you're happy now."

He spat on the mound of dirt and then stalked away to his car. He needed to clear his head.

* * *

The next day, he returned to work. He had barely stepped into his private office when a secretary stepped in and knocked on the open door.

"Yes?" he said, turning around to face the young woman.

"Mr. Smith would like to see you—as soon as possible."

"Okay." He set down his laptop bag on his desk and locked his office door behind him before striding down the hallway to Craig Smith's office. He knocked on the door and waited for permission to enter after announcing himself.

Once inside, he sat down in chair and look at his manger. Smith was smiling and had manila file folder lying open in front of him.

"Mr. King, the company would like to offer you a position as a manager."

"What for?" he asked curiously.

"We were very impressed with the murders you planned and pulled off under the noses of Miami-Dade PD. Apparently you had them running in circles for quite a while. Interesting premise—a murder-suicide…" George could detect a barely-concealed tone of admiration in his manager's voice.

"What murders?" _How could he know?_

"Why, the murders of your wife and her lover of course."

"What makes you think that I had anything to do with that? It was tragic accident—I regret that I was there—"

"Mr. King, a smart man such as yourself would know that your wife was cheating on you. No one can blame you for killing her. Give yourself a little credit, George. Not many people could actually pull this off—especially not as well as you did. Most men would be caught, but not you. You managed to pin this on the other guy. Now tell, did you pull the trigger yourself?"

"No. I managed it," George remarked coolly, without a trace of emotion. Masks would be of no use in front of Craig Smith—he knew every trick in the book and then some—and he knew that Smith was impressed with him. He deserved a chance to brag.

"I'm interested in how you kept your head clear during this."

"You really want to know?" He leaned forward, dropping his voice a notch. "She betrayed me and she did this to herself. She thought she could get away with it. It was rather easy to pretend to be someone else and to convince that jerk to off her. He was a spineless rat, but he behaved. Then I convinced him to shoot himself. It was simple. And you know what? I've _never felt better_."

George straightened up in his seat and smirked at his manager. Smith did not appear to be too surprised.

"Mr. King, welcome to the world of management. I think you will do exceptionally well."

**Author's Notes:**

A semi-short chapter, but this seemed to be the best point to end with. George is pretty much blocking all knowledge of his crime from himself in order to cope with it, but occasionally he acknowledges his 'brilliance'. Even though I didn't really state it, Sofia's murder was pinned on Andrew Karr and George walked away a free man.

There'll be a brief appearance by Lisa in the next chapter. And George is almost Jackson Rippner, but there's a few more key events before the switch is final.

Enjoy and thanks for reading/reviewing!


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Thirteen**

George shuffled into the Lux Atlantic and headed towards the main desk. It had been a few weeks since Sofia's murder and he was now officially in the clear from the police. Andrew Karr had been blamed for her murder and George had walked away. He had buried his treacherous wife and their unborn son. Apparently, the baby had been a boy and was about a month old.

His anger was still fresh but having been promoted to manager helped. He had thrown himself whole-heartedly into work, yet he still had unfinished business.

_Lisa… I need Lisa…_

He removed his sunglasses as he approached the woman at the desk. _I must have Lisa…_

"May I help you?" she asked politely.

"Yes, do you know where Lisa Reisert is?"

"She's not here."

"Okay. Does she not work today or did she change jobs?"

"She's away," said the employee in a bored tone. She did not even bother to look up from whatever she was fiddling with.

"For how long?" he pressed; his annoyance growing with her evasive answers.

"Till the end of her honeymoon, I guess. She just got married."

George stumbled back from the desk. A stabbing pain in his chest widened his icy eyes.

"Thank you," he muttered before quickly turning and exiting the hotel.

_How could you, Lisa? How could you ignore what we had? Did you do it to forget me? To try and move on? Why, Lisa? Why did you do this to me?_

* * *

_A week earlier…_

Slowly and deliberately, Lisa Reisert picked her way down the church aisle. Her white, flowing dress had a short train and her feet were clad in spindly four-inch heels. She was trying her best not to slip on any of the flowers that lay scattered on the floor. Her father held her arm and guided her to the alter where David stood.

Her father lifted her veil and placed her in hand in David's. Joe gave her a kiss and a smile before heading to his seat. David's wide smile warmed her insides and helped to calm her nerves. It was easier to picture just the two of them alone and not a church full of people.

_Just relax…everything's going to be fine…_

She barely heard the pastor's words.

She saw David mouth, "Are you okay?"

Lisa nodded and sent him a faint smile.

_Why am I doing this? This isn't right—it's too soon…_

The scent of the flowers in her hand brought back a memory of the last wedding she had a hand in—George and Sofia King's wedding.

_George, what happened to you?_

She had remembered seeing a brief article in the newspaper about Sofia King's murder. Apparently, her lover had murdered her and then shot himself.

_He must have been devastated._

There was a pause in the ceremony surrounding her and the pastor repeated his words. "Do you, Lisa Reisert, take David Roberson to be your lawfully wedded husband, through sickness and health, until death do you part?"

"I do," she said quietly. "I do."

_Right? There could have never been anything between us. He loved his wife…and I love David. It wouldn't have worked. I'm doing the right thing…_

Yet, doubt still filled the back of her mind. She had a connection with George, but she could never have loved him because of his commitment to his wife. And now, with him grieving, there was no time for them to begin a relationship. She had no reason to refuse marriage with a man who loved her and cherished her and that she loved in return over a man she knew nothing about.

_Marrying David is the right thing to do. I made the right decision._

**Author's Notes:**

Just a quick chapter! Sorry that it took so long for me to update. I'm in the middle of four stories and a novel (_Some Quality Time_ (sequel to _Day-to-Day_), _People Pleaser_ (sequel to _Hotel Business_), and _Not Tonight)_, plus finals at college and high school is being a pain. Anyways, thanks for reading/reviewing and enjoy!


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Fourteen**

Lisa's life remained oddly normal after she married David. She kept her position at the Lux Atlantic, worked long hours, and usually came home to an empty house. David was back in Special Operations training and was away a large amount of the time. When they were together, he made her happy, but she knew that there was still something missing from their marriage.

They were more friends than lovers, even if he did not see it. She knew it, but she could not bring herself to end his joy. He really did seem to love her but Lisa was just unable to return his enthusiastic affection.

That was because a certain blue-eyed man was never far from her mind.

_Maybe I should have tried to find you. Maybe I should have been there to help you cope with the loss of your wife. There's no end to what I could have—should have—done, but it's too late now. I'm married and it wouldn't be fair to David. It's not fair and we've both made such a mess of things…there's nothing we can do. We just have to let go…_

She sighed deeply and returned to the mind-numbingly dull task of data entry.

* * *

"_Lisa, where have you been?" he called as she wandered into his field of vision._

"_Oh, I've just been busy. You know how work gets at times." She smiled brightly at him as she sat down beside him on the bench._

"_I thought you'd never come back."_

"_Silly, of course I'll always come back. Why would I leave you?"_

_Sourly, he responded, "Well, what about your new husband?"_

"_Did Sofia ever stop us before?" she teased, slipping her fingers through his dark hair as she moved closer._

"_No…" he breathed, closing the gap between them. _

_Their lips met and he pulled her closer to his body. She clung to him as well, returning the passion he felt. He slowly pushed her skirt up around her hips as they moved to the bed. _

"_Mmm," she moaned as his full lips traveled down her slender neck. _

"_Leese, my Lisa," he whispered in her ear; his breathing harsh and raspy and they moved closer and closer. Skin touched skin, and Lisa's breath caught in her throat as his fingertips trailed across her pale flesh._

_They moved together and climaxed together, finally collapsing against each other, spent and exhausted. He held her naked body against his and curled his fingers within her reddish hair._

"_My Lisa…" he whispered once more. "No one will keep us apart."_

* * *

George threw himself back into work. He had nothing else left anyway. Sofia had killed his heart and ensured that no one could touch it again. She had taken Lisa from him with her blasted scheme; destroying his only chance at real love.

_Women are scum. Good-for-nothing, stuck-to-the-bottom-of-your-shoe scum. All they ever want is your money… they don't care about you._

He was admittedly bitter, but it no longer bothered him. Now he could focus more on his work and on moving up through the company ranks. He even moved into a new apartment that was spotless and organized. Sofia had been messy and it had always annoyed him to no end.

But now he was beginning a new life. He was no longer going to be George King, scorned widower with a murdered wife. Instead, he was going to become a top assassination manager.

He glanced at his desk, where half-filled out papers were spread. He was knee-deep in the process of creating a new identity—a new start for his new life.

He smirked at the birth certificate that he had requested. The bold-faced name leapt out at him.

**JACKSON T. RIPPNER**

_Mother: Lara DeCoute Rippner_

_Father: Brian Joseph Rippner_

_One of these days, Lisa… One day soon…you'll be mine. You won't get away from me. You won't even know what hit you…_

He scowled at the surveillance photograph of Lisa and her new husband. It would only be a matter of planning to get David Roberson away from her. Once her husband was out of the way, he would be free to finally claim what was his—to claim his prize.

_My Lisa…_

**Author's Notes:**

Just a short chapter. In the next chapter, David will be sent away and Jackson will meet Audra Fielding again. Soon, Lisa will make another appearance. Thank you emptyvoices for helping edit this chapter. Thanks to everyone for reading/reviewing! Enjoy!


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Fifteen**

_A few weeks later…_

"George? George King, is that you?" called a cheery voice and a blonde woman entered his line of view before sitting down beside him at the small table.

He barely glanced up from the mess of files he was reading. He hated working in public because people were so damn annoying at times. He would have been at the office, except there was a clean-up in progress from an intruder and there was construction going on besides his apartment.

"Do I know you?" he inquired coolly.

"George, it's me—Audra Fielding. Remember? I lived across the street from you… We went to the school to together?"

_Ah, the school slut… now I remember you._

"Audra, oh, I'm sorry. There's just been a lot on my mind…"

"I heard about what happened to your wife. What a shame. I can't imagine why she'd have picked that other loser over you though." Her hand found his knee and began to caress it. "You always were the prettiest guy in school. Now look at you, a handsome, respected businessman."

He brushed her hand off roughly and stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to."

She stood up and thrust a card at him. "Here, take it. Give me a call, whenever you're feeling lonely or down in the dumps. It's been great seeing you again, George."

"Yeah, you two," he muttered, quickly gathering his belongings and hurrying out of the small café.

_I can't go anywhere any more without people telling me how sorry they are. They doesn't understand that that bitch got what she deserved. _

Jackson headed across the street, swearing under his breath with every step. He yanked his car keys from his pocket and was unlocking his car door when he saw _her_.

Her reddish curls caught the sunlight and her wide smile allowed a glimpse at perfect white teeth. He watched her share a laugh with the man at her side. He saw the sparkling ring on her left hand. Anger boiled inside and he tightly clenched his fists, digging the key into his palm.

_How dare you do this to me, Lisa? How dare you betray me too?_

He punched the car door in his fury, smiling as his left hand stung and slippery blood dripped from his knuckles. He then unclenched his right fist and smirked at the blood-slicked key in his palm.

He opened the car and his blood dripped onto a stack of old surveillance photographs on the passenger seat. Jackson carefully picked one up and caressed the figure lovingly with his fingertips; blood covering the photograph.

_I always knew red would look good on you, Leese…_

He reached for a pad of paper and a pen from his laptop bag. Once equipped, he took one more look at the happy couple, gritted his teeth, and began to write. Lisa would pay for abandoning him—betraying him just like Sofia—when he had never abandoned her.

_You're mine, Lisa. Don't ever forget that._

* * *

_A few days later…_

Jackson unlocked the door to his apartment and spun Audra into a nearby wall. He had one hand tangled in her hair and another wrapped around her delicate throat. He was in power. She was clinging to him tightly with her legs wrapped around his narrow waist.

He normally abstained from giving into his primal urges, yet he was unable to this time. Jackson was frustrated with Lisa and needed a release. Since he could not have her, he would have to settle for Audra.

_One day, one day soon, you'll be mine, Lisa. Then you'll never leave me._

They scattered pieces of clothes as they made their way down the hall to his bed. Straight blonde hair morphed into tangled red curls as they lay entwined.

_Leese… don't you see how much I love you?_

Exhausted and spent, he pulled her body into his arms. He lovingly stroked her curly hair as she fell asleep with her head on his chest. He lay awake for an hour or more watching her sleep.

_You won't ever leave me…if you try, I'll kill you._

* * *

"Lisa?" called David as he entered their apartment.

"In here!" she shouted from the bedroom. She was reading a new paperback that she had picked up on her way to work that morning. Lisa looked up as he entered the room and shot him a smile.

"I'm afraid I have bad news." He sat down on his side of the bed.

She tensed up. "What's wrong?"

"I'm being sent to the Middle East with my troop. I just received my orders today."

"When?" she croaked; her throat bone dry.

"In three days," he said with a sigh. "I'm sorry."

"For how long?"

"I don't know."

Lisa shook her head softly. "No... No…."

"Hey, it's okay," he whispered soothingly, pulling her shaking body against his. "I'll be back soon. I can't leave you for very long. You know that I hate being way from you. I'll go crazy there without you."

"Don't go."

"I have to. It's my job, Lisa."

"Then quit. I don't want you going there!"

"Why?"

"I'm afraid if you do, I won't ever see you again!" she sobbed into his shirt, the material soaking up her tears.

"That's not true. I'll come back to you. I love you Lisa."

She cried hard. She knew that she could not repeat those three simple words. He would never ask her to say them and she knew she would never be able to tell him. She was not losing a husband, but more of a brother, or a good friend.

"Ssh," he soothed. "Everything's going to be fine. I promise…"

But deep inside, Lisa knew that nothing would ever be the same. She knew that everything would change now with David's call to duty. She just could not pin-point the troubles to come…

**Author's Notes:**

Geesh, it sure took me long enough to get this out! Sorry about the insanely long wait! Jackson's having some more identity issues and Audra becomes a big part of keeping him sane. Of course, that won't last long… Thanks for reading/reviewing!


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Sixteen**

Jackson Rippner grudgingly sat in the waiting room to see Dr. Donovan. Craig Smith had ordered him to see the psychiatrist when he had thrown a fit after someone rearranged his desk. He had suggested that he be medicated before returning to work.

Had it been anyone else, he would have disobeyed and not shown up for the appointment. But since he respected the older manager and his judgment, Jackson was impatiently taping his foot in the cushy waiting room instead of poring over job files and staring at his laptop screen.

"George King?" called a soft, female voice and he stood up. "Right this way, please."

_Finally, it only took how long?_

He followed the receptionist down the narrow hallway and finally entered the indicated room. A man in his 30s, with nearly black hair similar to his own, looked up from his desk and smiled.

"Come right on in, Mr. King. Have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

Stiffly, Jackson sank down into a chair seated opposite the psychiatrist. He saw no reason to sit on the cozy-looking couch or the plush chair next to it. There was no sense in being comfortable around the very man who was going to try and pick his brain apart. He loathed doctors, especially shrinks.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Jackson said politely, playing to the man's ego.

"Oh, it was no problem. Mr. Smith and I have known each other for quite some time."

_No wonder you're the shrink of choice. You've probably poked around in his head too…_

"So, I guess he's told you all about me then."

"He speaks of you most highly. He says you have a promising future, if you can learn to control your 'problems' as he calls them."

"My compulsions," he specified sourly. "My obsessions with perfection and order."

"Yes, that's correct." Dr. Donovan nodded in agreement. "Do you find these urges distracting?"

_A glimpse of red hair in the light… Lisa…_

"Yes."

"How distracting? Do they impede your work?"

_A camera in hand, a stack of surveillance photographs…_

"Very distracting. I have trouble focusing on the job at hand," he admitted.

The psychiatrist was hastily jotting down notes. "Uh huh. This is very typical of what is known as obsessive-compulsive disorder, or OCD. I was suspicious of it when Mr. Smith was talking to me, and what you have told me reinforces the likelihood of you having the disorder. I'll have to conduct some tests, but medication should calm these urges."

"That's good news," Jackson said with a half-smile.

_But it won't make me forget you, Lisa…_

* * *

"I miss you already," David said with a sigh as he stood in the airport with Lisa. They were in front of his gate, where he would go through on his way to customs and his flight.

"Me too," Lisa said distractedly. "I don't want you to go."

"Believe me, if there was any way in the world I could get out of this trip, I would. But I can't, Leese. I have to go. It's my job."

She nodded, hanging her head as she did so. He cupped her chin gently and she blinked at him as their eyes drew level.

"I _will_ come back to you. I promise you that I won't leave you. I'll always come back."

"I know, but I—"

David cut off her protests with a passionate kiss. "I love you, Lisa," he whispered when their lips parted.

Once again, all she could manage was a choked sob. _I can't say what I don't mean. It's not fair to him. I can't lie to him…_

"Good-bye," she breathed as they broke apart and he walked towards the gate.

When he turned back to blow her a kiss and wave good-bye, Lisa was already gone, headed at break-neck speed for her car.

Only once inside the safety of her small car did she dare curse her stupidity for ignoring her husband. David had given her everything without asking for much in return. Only an idiot could miss the love he held for her. He loved her unconditionally while she was still hung-up over a man who had most likely forgotten her and was mourning his deceased wife.

_I'm a stupid woman… I shouldn't have run like that. I should have just lied and told him I loved him. He wouldn't have known it was a lie._

Lisa laid her head on the steering wheel for support; her small body shaking as she cried. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, staining the pale skin and causing her green eyes to glisten and turn red.

_What was I thinking?_

**Author's Notes:**

Well, Jackson's finally getting some help, not that it'll do much good. In the next chapter, we'll learn of David's fate and Jackson will work on another job. Thanks for reading/reviewing! I hope everyone has a good holiday!


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Seventeen**

Jackson tapped away at his laptop, whistling a happy tune as he worked. He had sent Lisa's husband to what would be his death. The best part was that he would be a witness to the murder and no one would suspect it was anything more than a tragic accident. It had been surprisingly easy to hack his way into military files and make sure that David Roberson was on the next plane to the Middle East.

The recent war on Terrorism begun by the events of 9/11 had made his job even easier. Troops were deployed into the danger zone all the time and causalities were common-place. No one would investigate a soldier's death during a war.

Jackson was already in the Middle East, having been sent on a data-retrieval mission by Craig Smith. With his close-proximity and the easy access to high-powered weapons in foreign areas, David Roberson's murder would be a piece of cake.

_Lisa will be mine. There's no one left to stand in our way now._

He stabbed the 'enter' key on his laptop and relaxed. He had once again hacked into a top-secret mainframe and sent the orders for David's troop to be sent into a particularly dangerous area. It was a well-thought out suicide mission and he would be there in the shadows, lurking with a weapon, to make sure that David did not make it out alive.

_She's much too good for you…_ he thought, scowling at the photograph of David in his personal file that he had lifted. _Only I deserve her._

He fingered a lock of hair stolen from after her last hair cut. It had been easy to swipe the curl he now carried off the floor of the salon after having his own hair cut in the same chair. The auburn piece of hair still carried the faint scent of her shampoo, which was the same shampoo used in the salon.

_Soon, Lisa, soon we'll be together again. This time it'll be forever._

* * *

Jackson lay in wait above the empty crowds. He had set up the high-powered rifle he had purchased and crouched down beside it as he waited for David and his troop to enter his carefully laid trap. Below him were men also prepared for battle—men who could not wait for a chance to kill American troops. A large amount of money had passed from his hands to theirs for his safe passage through their territory and the chance to take out his enemy.

_Come on, come on!_

Special Ops men in desert fatigues with their own high-powered rifles cautiously traveled down the narrow streets. Jackson froze on the rooftop and was internally grateful for his choice of light colored clothes that day. As the small group approached the building he lay on, he aimed the scope on David.

He trained the scope on David's throat—the one area where he was most likely to kill him. David was wearing a helmet and a bulletproof vest and Jackson wasn't about to waste his one shot. He adjusted the rifle, deciding to aim higher than the throat. He changed his shot to David's face, a wide smirk crossing his face as his finger caressed the trigger.

_Any day now!_

Shots erupted from below and Jackson pulled the trigger. David fell to the ground and Jackson quickly peppered the dead man with more shots to make his murder appear to be an accident.

As battle raged on below him, he packed up his rifle and belongings and made his exit from the area. His job was complete.

David Roberson was dead and Lisa would be his.

* * *

Lisa froze when she answered the knocking on her door. Two men in suits were standing outside, badges in hand.

"Mrs. Roberson?" the older man asked and she nodded in response.

"May we come in?" questioned the younger one.

She stepped back from the door and allowed them in. As they strode towards her living room, she closed the front door and followed them. They sat down on the couch while she stood, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Mrs. Roberson, I'm afraid we have some bad news. It's about your husband…"

Lisa tuned out the two men; these businesslike strangers. She shook her head as they spoke. She caught snatches of their words: "dead", "accident—it was an ambush", "he was shot", "his body will be buried here", "a hero".

"I want you to get the hell out of my house," she said in a low voice in the middle of their talk. She had heard enough. Her husband was dead—she had known that the very moment she opened the door. She did not need them blabbering on and on about bravery and how he died for his country.

She already knew why he died. He died because she had been unable to save she loved him—unable to convince him to stay with her. Because of her, an innocent man was dead.

_It's my fault…_

**Author's Notes:**

A semi-short chapter. I think Jackson had a little bit too much fun taking David out. In the next chapter, Jackson will murder Audra and pay a visit to Dr. Donovan again. Soon, Lisa will bury David and Jackson will have another psychotic break. In three chapters (chapter twenty) Lisa and Jackson will meet again and her life will change drastically.

Thanks for all the reviews! They make me smile. : )


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to_ Red Eye_!

**Chapter Eighteen**

Jackson hurried into his apartment, his breathing harsh and his clothes covered in blood. He was trembling as he slipped his blood-slicked jacket off and tossed it hastily into the fireplace. He did the same with the rest of his clothes and almost threw his shoes in as well. But he kept the leather out of the fireplace as he started up a fire and burned all of the evidence while he bleached anything he might have inadvertently touched with blood.

As the fire roared, he hopped into the shower and scrubbed all the remaining traces of body from his body, then tossed bleach down the drain to destroy the traces he knew would be left.

_I won't be caught. I can't be caught. I didn't mean to hurt anyone._

He killed the fire and once the ashes were cool, he swept the remains of his clothes into a trash bag, which he also tossed trash in to conceal its contents. He spent some time polishing his shoes and scrubbing the floors of his apartment.

In his mind he could see blood everywhere—on the walls, the floors, the ceilings…

Eventually, he crawled on top of his bed, exhausted from his long plane flight, from killing, and from his cleaning spree. Within moments Jackson was sound asleep and nightmare-free.

* * *

The next morning, he turned on his TV and the news was blaring the story of a murder. Intrigued, Jackson listened in.

"Twenty-four year old Audra Fielding was found dead in her apartment yesterday afternoon after neighbors reported hearing sounds of a struggle. Miss Fielding was found tied to her bed, beaten, and covered in blood. Cause of death has not yet been determined. Police are searching for anyone who might have seen or heard anything related to the murder. At the moment, they are no official suspects," announced the young reporter.

_I got away with it…_

An odd sense of relief filled him and he relaxed.

_I got away with murder—for the fourth time. Aren't you proud of me, Leese? They can't catch me—they can't keep me from you._

* * *

"So, George, how have you been since starting the medication?" Dr. Donovan asked politely a few days later. He was once again seated in an uncomfortable chair to remind him to be on guard.

"It's been better. I'm a little less paranoid about things I know I can't control."

"That's good, although you do seem a little edgy today. Is there some thing that you'd like to talk about?"

_Like a fly in a spider's web…_

"It's just that… I have the worst luck."

"What do you mean?" the psychiatrist asked curiously as Jackson shifted nervously.

"Did Mr. Smith tell you about what happened to my wife?"

He shook his head. "Only that there was a tragic accident."

Jackson scoffed. "Sure, if you want to call her cheating on me, only to get shot by her lover an accident, then go right ahead."

"What happened to her, George?"

"She was… involved with this man—Andrew something or another—and she was pregnant. It was my son… and he—he killed them both. Shot her… then killed himself… I—I never knew…" he said hoarsely, his voice breaking.

_Lying little bitch… thinking that I wouldn't find out—then pleading… Like I'd really forgive her after what she'd done to me—after she betrayed me…_

"Sometimes, these things happen. I'm sorry."

"And now, my girlfriend went and got herself killed," he said bitterly.

"Who was she? What happened?"

"Gee, doc, don't you ever watch the news?" Sarcasm infiltrated his voice.

"On occasion."

"Hmph, you should watch it more often—get to know your patients better," suggested Jackson wryly.

"George, do you want to talk about what happened to your girlfriend?"

_You mean the bimbo that I fucked? I can't really call her a girlfriend, but whatever you say, doc…_

"Only if you do."

"George," Dr. Donovan was trying to remain cool and collected despite Jackson's baiting. "Let's talk about your girlfriend. What happened to her?"

"All I know is that they found her dead the same day I came back from my trip. Apparently it was a bloody mess and her face was bashed in."

"Tell me about your trip. Was it for work?"

"Yes."

"Where did you go?"

"Out of the country," he replied stiffly.

"That's nice. Now, what was her name?" Dr. Donovan seemed to sense that finding out more about his trip was a dead end.

"Audra. Audra Fielding."

"That's a pretty name."

_Not nearly as pretty as Lisa…_

"It was."

"Do you feel… guilty, George?" Dr. Donovan inquired, his pen poised above his pad of paper, ready to write.

"Sometimes, but mostly, I'm angry. Angry that I wasn't there. That I couldn't have stopped it."

_But I was there—I arranged it all. I killed all of them. Don't you see my beautiful plots? Don't you see my genius?_

"What makes you think you could have stopped it?"

"I should have been there for them—they were helpless."

"Do you see all females as helpless?"

"Sometimes."

"Was your wife and your girlfriend helpless?"

"Yes."

_Stupid little whores…_

"If you had been there, when your wife was killed, what would you have done differently?"

"I'd have killed him."

"Do you feel cheated that he died?"

"Of course I do," Jackson said, annoyed. "He killed her and then the coward killed himself!" _I wanted to be the one to pull the trigger, to slit their throats… anything but being the passive bystander…_

"Does this guilt keep you awake at night?"

"Yeah, it does."

"I'm going to give you some medication to help you sleep. I think expressing your feelings will help make you feel better."

_The only thing that'll make me feel better is Lisa. I need Lisa!_

"Thanks, doc."

**Author's Notes:**

Jackson's very good at messing with his therapist and telling him problems without telling him the real problems. In the next chapter, Lisa will bury David. The scene of Audra's death is in _You Failed, Jack_.

For some reason, I'm not getting e-mail alerts, but I'm still replying to everyone's reviews and reading them. Thanks for reading/reviewing!


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Nineteen**

Tears fell from Lisa's red-rimmed green eyes as she sat through the service. Yet another man who had known David was speaking and his speech followed the same train of thought as the others—how brave he was, how he had died for his country, that he would be missed…

She was sick of it. She was sick of the pomp and circumstance, of the men and women in uniform, of the polished brass, of the guns that would be fired in salute, of the endless speeches, and most of all how everyone was oblivious to the fact that David had not wanted to go. And that she let him go… she let him go off to a foreign country and die.

Lisa was not even able to kiss his cold body good-bye. The casket had been sealed long before she saw it and supposedly he had been unrecognizable.

The guns fired and she jumped at the noise. A folded flag was handed to her and the wooden box containing David's remains was slowly lowered into the ground. She tossed a rose into the open hole and whispered good-bye.

_I'm sorry… I'm sorry that I couldn't love you, that I couldn't give you what you deserved… I'm so sorry, David…_

Her eyes burned and she wiped at her dripping make-up and watery eyes.

_We should have just stayed friends…then you'd still be alive. This is all my fault…_

She ran from the grave side, pushing through the crowd of people who had come to pay their last respects. _I can't take this anymore…_

* * *

Jackson watched her slender form flee. He could see her tremble as sobs wracked her frail, pathetic body. Lisa had lost an incredible amount of weight since David's death. She barely ate anymore and he had lain awake watching her toss and turn in her bed from his laptop screen. More than anything, he wanted to be by her side and to make her feel better.

After all, he had shot her husband…

_She never loved him. She could never even lie and tell him that she loved him. She was too good for him. I did them both a favor._

But now was not the time. He had another plane to catch. There were places to go, plans to make, people to kill…

_I'll be back for you, Leese. Don't forget that you belong to me…_

* * *

_A year later…_

"Are you feeling okay, Lisa?" asked a brunette, a recently-hired desk clerk. "You're a little pale."

"I'm fine," lied Lisa, tossing a smile in her direction. "Just tired."

She glanced at her left hand, where her wedding ring still sat, sparkling in her face—a daily reminder of what she had done. A reminder that because of her, because of her love for another man who had most likely forgotten her, a good man had died. It had been a year since David was buried, but it still felt like she had just opened the door for the two grim-faced men.

"Why don't you go on home? It's a slow night and I think you could use the rest."

"Thanks, Jill," she said gratefully. "It's been a long week."

"Not a problem. Get some sleep…"

"I hope so."

Lisa smiled at the young girl and stumbled towards the back room to collect her purse. Normally she would have insisted upon working, but tonight, tonight she needed the break.

She drove back to her quiet apartment and uncorked a bottle of wine. _Just a few sips to relax… that's all I need…_

Half a bottle later, Lisa was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol coursing through her system. She looked at the ring on her finger again and sighed. Slowly and wobbling on her feet, she entered her bedroom and grabbed an empty ring box from the top of her dresser.

"It's time to end this charade," she said bitterly, ripping the band from her finger.

She hastily shut the box after placing the ring inside. _Where can I hide this? Where?_

In her drunken search, she tripped over the bottom drawer of the dresser. It was sticking out into the middle of the room.

_Perfect!_

Lisa tossed the box into the drawer and kicked the drawer closed. Then she collapsed on her bed and had the best night's sleep in well over a year.

_

* * *

_

_You are going to regret that in the morning, Lisa. It's a shame that I couldn't be there to hold your head up and soothe you…_

Jackson stared at the laptop screen from his hotel room in Maryland. The only contact he had made with Lisa in the past year was him monitoring her via the camera feeds to his private laptop. Craig Smith had kept him traveling the majority of the year and the only time he was in Miami, he was spending it in Dr. Donovan's office per Craig's orders.

A pale finger traced her delicate figure on the bed; her skirt raised enough to allow him to glimpse her long, well-formed, slender legs. He dreamed of her when he was all alone on trips. He dreamed of her sharing his empty bed with him, of making love…

His cell phone rang and he snapped, "King."

He listened to his orders, agreed on the schedule present to him and hung up.

Jackson Rippner was about to break into the National Security Agency and steal government secrets. Once his job was completed, then he could return to Lisa.

_I'm coming for you…_

**Author's Notes:**

This chapter was a pain to write. I'm not really happy with it, but it's mostly filler. Just a heads up, the next chapter is very disturbing. Jackson will see Lisa for the first time in person in ages, and he'll pretty much go insane. Thanks for reading/reviewing!


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Warning:** The content in this chapter is disturbing. Proceed with caution.

**Chapter Twenty**

_Over a year later…_

Jackson Rippner had just recently returned from out of town once more. His boss was keeping him rather busy. New jobs were cropping up with barely a moment's notice now. He enjoyed working full-time, but it was exhausting and left little time for Lisa-watching—by far his favorite activity.

He stumbled into his car and drove to a nearby shopping plaza. He needed to run in a few stores and grab a few items for his apartment. He had become sloppy lately and his hands were itching for some cleaning materials, not to mention Craig Smith had reminded him no less than five times to pick up his medication from the pharmacy.

How his boss even knew that he was out of medication, was beyond him. But Jackson respected him and knew that without the medication, he would be out of a job. He was not willing to take the risk, so he would dutifully pick up and take the prescribed pills.

On his way towards the stores, he spotted a familiar woman and his heart nearly stopped.

_Lisa… oh, lovely, lovely Lisa…_

He felt the knife strapped to his trim waist and watched her slowly walk, her motions slow, yet sensual. He could feel himself becoming aroused and he knew then what he had to do. He had to have her for himself.

_I need you, don't you need me?_

She was heading to her car as he crept through the silent parking lot. Cars hid his approach as Jackson stalked his prey. He had been waiting for years for this opportunity—since he first saw her inside the Lux Atlantic six years earlier.

_Come out, come out wherever you are…_

A flash of red hair appeared and he struck, throwing a hand over her mouth and placing a knife at her throat. He pressed his lips to her ear and hissed, "Don't fight me."

Lisa released a muffled scream and starting shaking in his grip. She was terrified.

"Ssh, sweetheart. I won't hurt you." He eased her slender body down to the pavement, spinning her around to face him in the process. Her purse and shopping bags had fallen in the short struggle and were beyond her reach.

She tried to fight back, but he nicked her pale throat with the blade as a warning. He could not allow her to escape—not when he was so close. Too close…

"Don't scream." He removed his hand from her throat to caress her thigh.

A shiver traveled through her tense body at his touch and her expressive green eyes pleaded with him.

_I'm willing to bet no one's touched like that since before your husband died, if they ever touched you like that..._

"Relax, sweetheart. I won't hurt you."

He moved the knife lower, tracing designs on her skin before resting it above her breast.

She was wearing a light-weight blazer over a v-neck top paired with a loose-fitting skirt that allowed him easy access to her pale and perfect skin and other places. He used one hand to push her flowery skirt over her hips and to remove her panties.

"Please, don't do this," she begged. Fear had slipped into her voice and it quivered as did her body.

"Ssh," he urged. "I'm not going to hurt you."

_Trust me, Lisa…I trust you…_

He kissed her throat, the knife never far away from her smooth skin. She shook in trepidation, tears falling from her eyes.

"Please, don't…" she whispered as he unzipped his pants, his intentions horrifically clear to her.

"Ssh, sweetheart. Don't cry. I won't hurt you. I'd never hurt you." He kissed her softly, yet forcefully on the mouth, while his hands roamed her body and he lowered him on top of her.

Lisa let out a harsh cry when he entered her. Jackson hastily covered her mouth to silence her.

Soft whimpers of protest escaped her lips as she writhed underneath him, desperate to escape.

Coldly, cruelly, he dragged the blade across her breast and tore the soft flesh, causing her to scream.

"Ssh, my love. I'd hate to be interrupted."

Lisa lay there stunned and in shock after he finished and sat up. She looked at him with glazed eyes; numb to her surroundings. She was unable to comprehend what she had suffered.

"No," she protested when his thumb brushed her face. It was an automatic defensive reaction, but his blood boiled all the same.

Screwing his face up angrily, Jackson seized her head roughly and slammed it against the cement. As blood poured from her head wound, he re-covered her body by straightening her clothes. He replaced her panties and pulled down her skirt, and even buttoned her blazer to cover the blood on her chest.

_No one may see her like that except me. She's mine._

Once satisfied, Jackson disappeared into the stores, eager to finish up his errands and return home. It would be interesting to see Lisa's reaction to their encounter…

_I told you, you were mine. Did you think I was lying, Leese? I never lie—especially not to you…_

**Author's Notes:**

Jackson is one sick, disturbing bastard. Lisa's reaction will be in the next chapter after it sinks in. Getting knocked out again is going to help her temporarily forget what occurred, especially since Jackson cleaned up after himself fairly well. Of course, Jackson will have a twisted version of the events in his head, as he often tends to. Thanks for reading/reviewing and for putting up with Jackson's crazy thoughts and actions.


	22. Chapter Twentyone

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Twenty-one**

Lisa awoke dazed and flat on her back a while later. Her entire body ached and the sunlight was burning her skin. A concerned man helped her to her feet and offered to take her to a hospital.

"No, I'm fine. I just fell," she insisted, declining the generous offer of a stranger. "Thank you though."

It was not until she made it back to her lonely apartment and undressed that she realized something was wrong. It was more than an ordinary fall.

Ashamed, Lisa realized that she been raped and cut by her attacker. As she touched the bleeding wound on her chest, she remembered an intense gaze focused on the red liquid seeping from her battered body as he soaked up her pain. He had a light build, but he was deceptively strong and he had wanted her.

She threw herself into the shower, feeling extremely unclean and scrubbed at her tainted skin until the hot water had nearly singed her and she had scrapped her flesh raw. Faint traces of red circled around the drain from the gaping wound—the imperfection that he had left.

Lisa felt sick and slowly slipped down to the bottom of the shower stall, tears flowing from her eyes as she sobbed.

_Why, why? Why me? What did I do wrong? Should I have fought harder? Is this my punishment for letting David die?_

She felt an irrepressible urge to vomit. Soaking wet, she grabbed a towel and knelt beside the toilet in time to lose whatever bit of food was left in her system. Exhausted, Lisa lay back on the cold floor and tried to recall his face, his name, anything that might help her identify her attacker.

_A light blue dress shirt paired with a suit jacket… a smooth, calm, charming voice… pale skin not unlike her own… sun-streaked, short-cropped brownish hair… his eyes—what color were they?_

_A gaze that made me shiver—he looked into my soul with those eyes… his eyes betrayed him…_

_What color? What color were his eyes?_

_Why does it feel like he knew me? Like he was targeting me? Why? Who is he? What does he want?_

Sticky blood covered her hand as she pressed her palm against the jagged cut that his knife had left.

_The rational thing to do would be to go to the police—they could find him…right? But they'd also ask nosey questions and I already ruined any evidence. I don't want people to know what happened…I don't want to speak in front of a jury. It's bad enough that he—he violated me…_

Wrapping the towel around her body tightly, Lisa walked into her bedroom and picked up the telephone. She dialed the well-known number of her doctor's office and fabricated some story to cover up her rape. She doubted the receptionist believed her, but if she said outright that she was raped, then the police would become involved and she did not want that to happen. Lisa scheduled an appointment to receive a morning-after pill later that day to stop any chance of a child resulting from her unwanted encounter.

_I am doing the right thing, right?_

* * *

"I'm leaving the company," Jackson announced the following day as he placed his hands on Craig's desk while he looked down on the older man.

He had spent most of the night dreaming of Lisa. He could not remember having seen her in ages until they had met in the parking lot. She had clung to him and begged him to make love to her right then. He had gladly agreed and once they had finished, he had continued on to his errands and headed home.

"What prompted this?" Craig seemed surprised, but not completely shocked at his blunt statement.

"I can't take these stupid, menial jobs anymore. It's sucking up my life and my career is going nowhere. Plus, I hate meeting with that know-it-all shrink and taking those damn pills."

"Anything else?"

"Lisa—as long as I work for you, I can't have her. You'll stop me. You have stopped me."

"Correct, but wasn't it also because of her that you became a manager in the first place? Who was it that arranged the perfect murders of your treacherous wife and her lover? The murders that won you a coveted position?"

"Don't bring Sofia into this," Jackson said coolly; trying to remain calm.

"You don't need a woman in your life, Jack. You'll get by fine without Lisa Reisert."

"Jack?" He pretended to be confused. "My name's George."

"You've been calling yourself Jackson Rippner for how long now? Don't you dare think that I didn't know about your clever alias."

"But how?" he asked weakly. "No one…"

Craig shrugged his shoulders and smiled at his employee. "It's what I do. It's what _we_ do, Jackson. This is our business—our world…"

"No longer," he swore, shaking his sun-lightened hair. "Consider this my two weeks' notice."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you look good with brown eyes? They make you almost appear to be human," sneered Craig.

Jackson reached up towards his eyes and felt the contacts residing in his crystalline eyes. Angrily, he removed them, the murky brown disappearing and being replaced with an ice-cold blue.

"Fuck you," he said bitterly, slammed the colored contacts down on Craig's desk before stalking out of the office in a huff.

_How could he know about Lisa? Are they surveying me too?_

**Author's Notes:**

I forgot to mention in the last chapter exactly why Lisa didn't recognize Jackson. His hair was cut short and sun-streaked and no longer a color that she recognized. He was also wearing brown contacts, which hid his most identifying feature. Hopefully this chapter made that clear. Plus, Jackson doesn't remember attacking her. Eventually, he'll forget that he even saw her in person that day and he certainly won't connect her story about rape to himself years later.

I know the time-frame can be confusing, but this story takes place before the movie (currently two years prior) and the rape that just occurred was the one that she mentions on the plane in the movie. Hopefully this clears up everything.

Thanks for suffering through this painful two chapters and reviewing. It was not an easy subject to write about and I'm trying to make it realistic without giving too much detail.

The next chapter will be much calmer as Jackson ends his therapy with Dr. Donovan and Lisa starts to move on with her life.


	23. Chapter Twentytwo

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Twenty-two**

"How are you doing today, George?" Dr. Donovan asked, cheerful as always.

Jackson was sulking in his chair, refusing to even pay attention to the psychiatrist. Dr. Donovan cleared his throat and repeated his question.

"I quit my job," he said lazily, pretending to examine his fingernails intently.

"Why? More importantly, how do you feel about quitting?"

"It was taking over my life. I feel quite relaxed now, to tell you the truth. It's like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders."

"That's good. Will you find another job that's more relaxed?"

_What I plan on doing after this is over is slitting your throat—so tell me, how does that make you feel, doc?_

"No, I don't think I will. I don't see a reason to return to the working world." Jackson stretched out in his seat, his posture indicating that he was quite at ease, not jumpy as most people in his position would be.

"How will you survive?" inquired Dr. Donovan.

"I inherited a large sum of money years back and I've been living fairly frugally since then and saving the bulk of my money in high-yield accounts." _I never really needed to work, but it kept me entertained. Now I have Lisa…I don't need work anymore._

"So you're pretty well off then? Why did you bother working?"

Jackson shrugged. "Just something to do."

"What do you plan on doing with your free time now?"

"Mainly what I do now—work with computers. And there's this girl that I've had my eye on for a while, so I think I'll ask her out to dinner…"

"Sounds like a plan. Do you still feel bad about what happened to your wife and girlfriend?"

_Ouch, doc, you know right where it hurts, don't you?_

"I'm starting to realize that it was out of my control. Had I been there, maybe I would have died instead. I don't like to think about it."

"And how are your compulsions? Any better?"

"They're completely nonexistent."

_Can we finish up now?_

"Sounds good. So I'll see you in a week—" began Dr. Donovan, closing Jackson's thick file.

"Actually, you won't."

"Why not? Are you away on business?"

"I'm terminating treatment."

Dr. Donovan sank back into his desk chair. He seemed almost amused by Jackson's declaration. "Are you?"

Jackson glared at him harshly. "I no longer require your help."

The psychiatrist laughed. "George, you've made great progress, but you're still on medication. I have to slowly to take you off the medication and make sure you don't have a relapse. You can't just leave."

"I stop taking the pills months ago."

"Yet you still asked for the prescription right on time? Why, George?"

"I didn't need it. But my boss was checking on it, so I had to get it."

"Ahh…but why didn't you tell me that you no longer needed the medication?"

"Does it really matter? It's over anyways. Have a merry fucking day," Jackson said coldly, standing up. With a curt nod to his shrink, he causally walked out of the office, while Dr. Donovan sat at his desk, stunned.

* * *

Craig Smith was half-asleep at his desk when the phone rang. He quickly picked up the receiver and answered with a sleepy, "Hello?"

"It's Donovan. George King has refused any further treatment. He also claims to have stopped taking his medication a few months ago."

"Son of a bitch," hissed Craig; bringing his fist down on the desk angrily.

"Do you think it's related to the Reisert girl?"

"Yes. Did he mention her?"

"Not by name, but he said that he'd had his eye on a girl for a while."

"Sly little bastard."

"He's obsessed with her," Dr. Donovan said. "He won't admit it, but he's too wrapped up in her."

"Did he mention their parking lot encounter?"

"What?"

"King cornered and raped the Reisert girl in a parking lot when he was running errands. He saw her and just snapped. He cut her up pretty badly too."

"Does she know?"

"Poor girl's too confused to realize who it was. She hasn't the slightest clue that he's stalking her."

A sigh came from the other end. "I hate to say it, but I think it's time we terminate Reisert, before King gets out of hand."

"I think you're right. Lucky for us, I know exactly what to do about it," Craig said with a slick smile crossing his face.

* * *

A sea breeze and a half later, Lisa was finally starting to relax. She had gone to her favorite little corner bar and ordered her favorite drink. Sea breezes still reminded her of the surprise kiss she had shared with George King well over six years earlier.

She sighed softly and stirred her half-empty glass. The bartender came over and said, "Guy trouble?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

_A knife blade cut her skin… bright sunlight in her eyes… his eyes…_

"You want some advice?"

"Sure." _What could it hurt? The damage is already done._

"If he's hurting you, leave the bastard. But if you miss him, go find him. That look only has two meanings—either he's hurt you and made you cry or you lost him and miss him."

"Thanks," she choked out.

_But you don't want me, do you? Especially not now… not after what happened… you could never want me back._

**Author's Notes:**

Only three more chapters left! Who saw the twist with the therapist and his boss coming?

Anyways, thanks for reading/reviewing! The next chapter should be up tomorrow!


	24. Chapter Twentythree

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Twenty-three**

_A year later…_

Lisa was drinking perhaps her fourth cup of coffee that day. It was all she could do to keep her head from falling on the desk.

_Why did I offer to work a double-shift? What was I thinking?_

She downed the rest of the murky liquid with a sigh. _I have no life—that's why I work here…_ _Not that there's anyone here at the moment. A quick nap couldn't hurt…_

"Miss Reisert?" a voice called and Lisa picked her head up from the desk and stared at the customer waiting patiently in front of the desk.

"Mr. Keefe, I'm so sorry." Lisa scrambled to grab the check-in folder and to enter the information into the computer.

"It's fine. Long day?"

"It's been a long couple of years," she replied with a half-smile. "What about you?"

"The same."

She nodded and typed away at the computer, swiped the key cards to activate them, and looked up to face Charles Keefe once more. He was a politician and his favorite place to stay in Miami was at the Lux Atlantic.

"Here you go," she handed him the folder with information and the key cards. "Room 3825 and it's set up just the way you like it."

"You're an amazing woman, Lisa. What do you say to an early breakfast? My treat."

"Oh, Mr. Keefe, I can't leave—"

"Hey, Lisa, it's time for your break," called Jeff, another employee. "You've got an hour."

"Well, I guess that solves that." Charles smiled at a flustered Lisa.

"Yeah. Just give me a minute, okay?"

"Of course," he said, heading over to the lounge while she retreated to the back to grab her purse and to freshen up. Her make-up had started to wear off and the little bit that remained had been smudged by her nap. The neck of her light pink top had begun to shift and reveal the nasty scar that she tried to keep hidden.

_What am I doing? I must be insane._

Despite her reservations, Lisa returned to the lounge, where Charles Keefe was waiting and they left the hotel for an early breakfast.

* * *

A dart flew right into the middle of Charles Keefe's forehead, where a crude bulls-eye had been scrawled. He had his arm around Lisa Reisert and was escorting her to his car.

Two pools of ice were riveted on the surveillance photographs that papered the walls. The ones that ended up defaced by a combination of markers and target practice all showed Lisa with another man.

"Feeling better now?" Craig Smith asked, his voice causing Jackson Rippner to jump.

"Oh that?" Jackson gestured towards the photograph that he had just punctured. "It's a new type of therapy—very relaxing."

"I'm sure it is."

"What do you want?"

"The company wants you back. You were the best we ever had, Jack. The _absolute best_."

"I've told you time and time again that I'm freelance. I don't do shit jobs anymore."

"Yet you still haven't won her, right?"

Jackson's fingers tightened reflexively on the knife he carried. "What are you talking about?"

"Lisa Reisert—she doesn't want you, does she? You spend all your time obsessing over her, yet you still can't touch her. You can't even approach her."

"I'm just bidding my time."

"It's been what? Seven years now? I'm not a fool, Jack."

"Neither am I," Jackson snapped bitterly. "Now get out."

"Wouldn't it be a shame if Miss Reisert was to have a little… accident? Hmm?"

The dark haired manager froze. "You—you wouldn't dare."

"You can't watch her _all_ the time, Jack. What's to say that I haven't already issued a job? What's to say there aren't already men watching her—waiting for my order to slit her pretty throat?" Craig said; his voice low and with a hint of a smile.

Jackson turned pale and began to look ill. "No…"

Craig moved closer and whispered in his ex-employee's ear, "Did you know that she's fucking Keefe? She doesn't want you."

"You're lying," Jackson hissed, clenching his left fist. "Lisa wouldn't do that. She loves me and I love her. She's waiting for me."

"Do you want proof? Which do you prefer—photographs or videotapes?"

Jackson swung his left hand straight into Craig Smith's jaw. A sharp crack filled the air as his punch connected with the bone. Craig howled in pain and reached towards his face.

"Just for that, I should kill your little toy."

"You so much as look at her the wrong way and you'll wish that I'd only broken your jaw," Jackson warned, withdrawing his sharp knife from the sheath.

"You're in no position to make threats, Jack. You have no one to watch your back. You're an island—a miserable little island. No one would complain or even notice if you suddenly disappeared."

"Is that so?"

"Listen to me—you do some jobs for me, forget about her, and I'll let your precious Lisa live. You disobey or refuse and I'll have her head Fed-Ex'ed to you. Do we have a deal?"

Jackson ground his teeth for a moment and then looked back at this wall of pictures. He stared at the vibrant young woman he had been tracking for seven years and seemingly collapsed. His shoulders drooped and his knife clattered to the floor. Defeated, he whispered, "What do I have to do?"

"That's more like it," said Craig proudly, even though he was still having problems speaking with his injured jaw.

**Author's Notes:**

So to recap the past year, Lisa's become withdrawn, Jackson was allowed to quit, and Craig started extra surveillance on Lisa. He waited for a while and tried to get Jackson to come back to the company. Jackson's been refusing and working on his own. Jackson hasn't moved in on Lisa yet because he's been busy and he could tell she was tired.

Now Craig's using Lisa to his advantage to get Jackson back, even on a job-to-job basis. Pretty good leverage, isn't it?

Hopefully Jackson wasn't too unrealistic and I had to finally bring Keefe into the picture.

Thanks for reading/reviewing! Only two more chapters to go!


	25. Chapter Twentyfour

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Twenty-four**

Jackson slipped into the silent apartment and removed his carefully-placed cameras. He was terminating all surveillance of Lisa Reisert under Craig Smith's orders.

Once he had packed up all of his equipment into a black bag, he lingered in Lisa's bedroom. He reclined on the queen-sized bed and breathed in the flowery scent of her perfume from the pillows and sheets. He could imagine falling asleep beside her in that bed every night and waking up beside her tightly curled figure in the morning.

Lisa had a tendency to curl up when she slept. Not that it bothered him…it was a peculiarity that belonged to his beloved Lisa.

Sighing, he stood back up slowly, eyes on the comforter as he made sure that no signs of him remained. He trudged to the front door, heavy bag in hand, and half-smiled at the empty apartment.

"Good-bye for now, sweetheart," he whispered to the still, scented air and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Hungry flames eagerly licked the stack of photographs he had placed in his fireplace. The burnt edges curled away and he slowly watched her burn—purging her from his memory as best he could at the same time.

_This is only temporary, my love. I'll come back for you once it's safe._

He was going through the motions of destruction to save her life. After a few jobs, he would take his revenge. When Craig least expected it, he would find a shinning blade plunged deep in his back and Jackson's hand tightly enclosed on the hilt.

_A very literal back-stabbing…_ he thought dryly. _I wonder what a shrink would make of that…_

As the last of the vigilantly shot photographs were reduced to mere ashes, Jackson felt a stab of pain in his heart. To his surprise and utter joy, one photograph remained—with Lisa's face featured prominently—and was rapidly disintegrating.

_No, no, no!_

Jackson poked at the small fire with a poker, attempting to rescue the final photograph. When his hurried movements worsen the small blaze, he abandoned the poker and reached directly into the fire. Singing his skin slightly, he plucked out the half-burned photograph and let out a sigh of relief.

_You haven't won…_

* * *

"Welcome back," Craig Smith greeted him joyfully a few days later.

Jackson slunk into the office and reclined in a chair; barely resisting the temptation to place his recently-shined, Italian-leather shoes on his employer's desk. He settled for a sour look and a disinterested tilt to his head. Leather gloves covered his hands and hide the minor burns from the fire.

"What's the job?"

"Always the businessman," chuckled Craig. He pushed a folder towards the manager. "The target's name is William O' Donald. He currently holds the position of Deputy Director of Homeland Security."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "This reeks of political trouble," he said, wrinkling his nose and pushing the folder back. "I don't do political."

Craig sighed and reached for another folder. "Meet Teresa Edwards—the wife of millionaire Ron Edwards. She's been cheating on him for a good year. He wants her disposed of for the tune of 500 grand."

Jackson whistled at the price. It was the same amount he had offered Andrew Karr seven years ago to off his unfaithful wife. "Any certain way?"

"He wants to it to look like a robbery gone wrong. Someone snuck in and she got in the way—bang, she gets popped, dies. That sort of thing."

"When do you need the plans?" he asked, the folder open and his blue eyes scanning the multitude of papers inside. A photograph of a dark-haired woman sealed the deal.

"A week from tomorrow. Can you do it?"

A twisted smile crossed his face. "Of course I can."

_Your kind doesn't survive, Sofia. I'll make sure of it—personally…_

* * *

Dressed in black from head to toe, Jackson slipped passed the by-passed security system. For such a rich-man, Ron Edwards' security system was bottom-of-the-line. Not that it mattered to him. He would have been able to beat a tougher system without a second thought.

The suspecting, unfaithful woman was lying in bed upstairs. A scan had already confirmed her location and her solitary presence. It was only the two of them. Edwards' hired goons were down the road at a guard shack or making rounds on the property.

He withdrew the sharp, shinning blade from its sheath without a sound. He crept up the stairs and into the bedroom, watching her chest's steady rise and fall with each breath.

_Not for much longer… _

As the floor creaked under his feet, Jackson began to make noise. He started rummaging in drawers in search of money, jewelry, etc and banged his knife around. The young woman quickly bolted awake and screamed at the sight of him.

He spun around and advance on the helpless female with a blood-thirsty grin. He had been denied the pleasure of killing Sofia the first time—there was no way he would pass up a second opportunity.

"Hello, sweetheart. Did you miss me?" he questioned coldly, lunging for the frightened woman and quickly sliding the knife against her throat.

As she proceeded to scream and thrash about, Jackson roughly stabbed the blade into her chest and twisted the knife.

"How's that feel, bitch? Does it feel good?"

He shoved a cloth he had stolen from a drawer into her mouth to muffle the cries. Then he went to work cruelly mutilating and murdering her.

_Do you feel sorry yet, Sofia? Can't see you what you did to me—what I had to do because of you? You stole my life, you little whore…look at what I've been reduced to…_

An hour later, blood-spattered and elated, Jackson made the final cut—a deep slash to the throat that sprayed what little blood remained on the wall. He sheathed his bloody knife and continued upon his business before exiting the house in a similar manner of silence.

**Author's Notes:**

Only one more chapter to go! Jackson's being rather passive about losing Lisa, but remember, he was able to keep cool when he discovered his wife was being unfaithful to him. He's actually using logic at the moment. Of course, he can't resist an opportunity to kill a woman fitting Sofia's profile. Not that it matters, because in the next chapter, everything goes back to what he wanted anyways.

Thanks for reading/reviewing!


	26. Chapter Twentyfive

**Steal My Life**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Twenty-five**

_A year later…_

"Jackson, I've got a line on a new job for you," Craig Smith said cheerfully. "I know you don't do political, but I think you'll want this one."

"Who is it?"

"Charles Keefe—the soon-to-be Deputy Director of Homeland Security."

"Give me the file," demanded Jackson, holding his hand out. The hair on the back of his neck was bristling at the very mention of the man he had once seen with Lisa.

"I don't have it."

"Liar."

"They'll contact you and give you intel. I'm just telling you to clear your schedule because they want the best and they are more than wiling to pay for your expertise."

"Stop lying to me!" He yanked his knife free and placed it against Craig's throat as he held the older man's shirt collar in his left hand.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

_Brown hair, red lips, dead eyes gazing accusingly at him… red curls, wide smile, petite frame…_

"You stole Lisa…" his voice wavered and the blade in his hand quivered, nicking the exposed skin.

"No, you did that yourself. You pushed her away just like Sofia and Audra."

With an animalistic snarl, Jackson slit Craig's throat without a second's hesitation. The lead manager's blood sprayed on the walls, Jackson's face, and other nearby objects as he slumped to the floor dead. Jackson's chest was heaving and the knife was still poised in the air.

Disgusted, Jackson spit on his old boss before wiping the blood off his knife and face with the dead man's handkerchief. He left the stained cloth lying beside the body and stepped on the body on his way out the door.

Jackson Rippner walked back out into the daylight a free man for the first time in eight long years.

* * *

Lisa taped the last box shut with a loud sigh. All of her meager belongings were now boxed up and ready for the moving company.

The ghosts in the apartment she had once shared with David were too many. She had spent many nights crying herself to sleep or so drunk that she passed out in her clothes. Alcohol helped numb the pain even if she was not supposed to be mixing it with her anti-depressant medication.

A friend at work, upon watching Lisa repeated coming in either exhausted, hung-over, or with red-rimmed eyes, had suggested that she move. She had taken the advice and sold her apartment and leased another one closer to her work.

Her father had graciously offered to let her move back in his house. It was currently being remodeled, so she had declined the offer. As much as she loved her insomniac father, Lisa needed her own space.

By tomorrow, she would be living in a new apartment with her memories left behind at the old place. She needed a fresh start—she needed to move on from David's death. After all, it had been four years since he was killed.

_Good-bye,_ she thought as she drove away from the apartment and headed for work. _Good-bye for good._

* * *

Jackson pulled up in front of the fairly-new apartment building. A moving truck was parked in front and unloading boxes labeled with the neat, precise handwriting he had come to know as well as his own. A petite redhead was standing in the yard, giving directions to the moving men. Her curly hair was falling out of the ponytail she had hastily tied it back in and her worn out clothes were a stark contrast to her usual business-type skirts and blouses. Her faded jeans were even ripped and fraying at the bottoms.

_You almost look like a teenager, Lisa. I wish I had known you back then…been your first love… Think of all the fun times we could've had…_

His cell phone rang. "Hello," he answered smoothly, trying to hide his annoyance at being bothered.

The rest of the phone call was a mixture of numbers and code. He had gotten the Keefe job and they wanted to use a certain hotel manager…

Lisa gave an exasperated sigh and blew at a few loose strands of hair. She turned, hands on her hips, and glanced in his direction.

_Hello again, sweetheart. Sorry for the interruption—stupid idiots should know better than to bother me when you're around…_

She was calmly trying to explain something to the movers; miraculously managing to control her anger.

_We're going to be very friends, aren't we, Leese?_

A slow smirk crossed his face as his fingers stroked the knife at his side.

_Soon…soon you'll be mine. Your time is almost up… I'm already here, sweetheart. Can you see me? I can see you…_

Jackson turned on the engine and drove away, already thinking of the best way to claim his prize—his Lisa. Craig Smith was dead and there was no one left to stand in his way.

_My lovely, lovely Lisa…you belong to me._

**Author's Notes:**

That's the end! I can't believe it's finally over! It's been over eight months since I started writing 'Obsession', even though when I started it, I thought it was only going to be _Do My Part_. Thanks for sticking around to see this to the end!

All of the extras, such as missing scenes, trailers, music videos, graphics, etc. are on the web page. It's still under construction, but the link to the 'Obsession' pages is in my profile.

Thanks so much for all of your comments and support throughout this story and the others! Enjoy it: )

I think I'm gonna go cry now…


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